You Ask Me How I Am, But There’s So Much More To My Response
How are you? And what do I say? I’m good. I’m fine. And while that may be the case, in that specific moment, there’s so much more behind my lips.
By 
Lauren Suval
Three words that casually slip off the tongue upon meeting. From the barista behind the counter. From a relative at a family occasion. From an acquaintance you haven’t seen in a while. From a friend who isn’t close.
How are you?
And what do I say? I’m good. I’m fine. And while that may be the case, in that specific moment, there’s so much more behind my lips. There are words that are preserved; that are kept hidden behind my teeth.
I could say, I’ve been thinking about the past a lot. About a lot that’s been left unresolved. There’s a need to confront what needs to be dealt with and come out on the other side.
I could say, I’m scared because I don’t know when that will be.
I could say, I tried to dye my hair auburn a few weeks ago, but it didn’t come out — my hair’s too dark. I was upset about that for two days.
I could say, everything is changing and it’s inevitable. I’m swimming along with the current and that current is called Metamorphosis. Some things are not meant to last.
I could say, I’ve been having dreams of death, but apparently, death signifies transition. Or a yearning to escape the demands of daily life. I’ve been dreaming of hurt. Of energy that’s painful. Reminiscent of where I was at this point last year.
I could say, I feel lighter. A layer is unraveling and it feels right. It feels like relief.
I could say, I just nourished myself at Spumoni Gardens and ate the best slice of pizza ever for my grandma’s 83rd birthday. She was smiling and savoring every minute of it.
I could say, I sung three songs at an open mic night and that makes me happy because I was able to surpass a fear of mine. To exert control in a time where control is challenging to come by.
I could say, I spent a sun-filled day outside by the East River and Brooklyn Bridge in a polka dot dress, rejuvenating my spirit. Cleansing in another place with a new view.
I could say, Brooklyn has my heart; it’s where I grew up and it’s grounding. In a way, healing. I could use the healing.
I could say all that. Or I can just say I’m fine. 
