The worst question you can ever ask me is.. “what’s wrong?”. I despise this question because in this moment as those words are uttered from your lips, it rings true in my ears that something is wrong. A lot of somethings are wrong and I spent all morning convincing myself to get out of bed, trying to forget about all of these troubles that you brought rushing back with one stupid question. I was temporarily happy, I had forgotten about the class I’m failing, I had just managed to put the boy who broke my heart out of my mind, I wasn’t dwelling on the fact that I hate my body or that I got written up at work last week. I know you think you’re helping, being a concerned citizen or friend or what have you, but you’re not. I don’t need you to tell me I look upset, I don’t need you to remind me of my ever-troubling problems. I don’t want to talk about them, believe me. I haven’t been walking around all day looking sad, waiting for someone to ask me that dreaded question, so I can spill my whole life story, have a good cry and move on with my life. I don’t want to talk about my problems. It’s not how I work, I bottle things up and pretend they don’t exist, walk around every day with a smile on my face, until it takes such as toll that you can read it like an open book, but even once you notice or catch a glimmer of my true self, the sadness that burdens my soul, I won’t open up. I’ll say I’m tired, busy, stressed, any lame excuse to get you to bugger off and stop questioning me. At the end of the day, if I had seriously responded to your question, what would you have done about it? Probably never asked me again for one. You certainly can’t fix my problems and I’m not asking you to. There’s nothing that you can do to change any aspect of my life or the way I’m feeling. You don’t have the answers. You can’t cure my heartache or change my attitude. My questions will just become your questions and you’ll start to wonder, start opening doors in your mind that otherwise would have went unopened, start questioning your happiness. Then, instead of one broken soul, there will be two and the world certainly doesn’t need that.