We Laugh So They Don’t Ask

We laugh. Loud. On purpose. On time. So they don’t ask. "Are you okay?" We nod. Before they finish. Because truth takes too long. And no one has time. We send memes. We type “LOL.” But behind the phone silence. Always silence. We post a picture. Eyes bright. Smile wide. But the caption never says, “I almost gave up last night.” It never says, “I’m tired of pretending.” We walk with others. But our mind far away. Thinking. Regretting. Playing battles we already lost. We work. We succeed. And still feel like nothing. Because medals don’t fix what’s inside. We keep busy. Because stopping means thinking. And thinking means falling. So we run. Through days. Through weeks. Through years we barely remember. We smile in family photos. Eat at crowded tables. But no one notices how quiet we’ve become. How we shrink a little more each week. Some nights, we cry quietly. Into pillows. Into silence. Then wipe and sleep. And tomorrow we laugh again. Because that’s what keeps them from asking. And sometimes we wish they would. But we also hope they won’t. Because explaining hurts too much. So we keep laughing. So they don’t ask.