I Wanted to Be Asked How I Was and Not in the Polite Way

Dear Delyara, I wanted somebody to ask like they were prepared to stay. Not the version people throw out while reaching for their purse, unlocking their phone, loading the dishwasher, walking into a meeting, buckling their seat belt. I wanted the kind of “How are you?” that makes room afterward. The kind that can survive a real answer. No one asked me that today. A lot of people asked me the other kind. And I kept answering with the other kind of answer too. Fine. Busy. Tired. Good. Long day. I am complicit in my own loneliness in that way. I know that. But sometimes I think I lie because I can already feel how much room the truth would need, and I know there isn’t any.