The question

Last night you asked me if I was happy. 

I don't think a question has ever left me feeling so exposed. 

I thought about lying and just telling you yes but I just couldn't make myself say it. 

Then I briefly considered saying no but I felt that conversation was best left for a different night. 

So I settled on sometimes. 

Sometimes I'm happy. 

I didn't really carry on the conversation after that. 

I could have told you that I've been sad for a long time. 

I could have told you that you're one of the only people that takes that sadness away. 

I could have told you a lot of things last night but I didn't. 

We both kept sipping on our drinks, 

pretending to watch whatever was on the TV in front of us. 

The way you looked at me though, 

it was like you knew. 

The way you smiled at me, 

it was as if you were determined to change that. 

— m.f. // The question