Im not okay

You asked me why I never told anyone that I wasn’t okay. Maybe because I learned early to hide the storm inside me, to smile even when I was breaking, to look normal while my heart shook. I didn’t want anyone to see me fragile, to watch me fall apart under bright lights. So I built walls around my pain, kept it locked behind my words and quiet smiles. I carried it all alone. Every night, everyday. I said “I’m fine” because it was easier than explaining how heavy my mind felt. I was afraid, not of you, but of being seen without my armor, of becoming the person people whispered about, the friend who always struggles. I didn’t have the right words. I only had the bruises inside me, the loneliness I kept hidden, the tiredness that weighed on my chest. Saying “I’m not okay” felt too small for the pain I carried. I didn’t want to burden anyone. I thought my pain was mine to carry alone. I swallowed it, kept walking, kept smiling, kept pretending the storm wasn’t there. But the truth is… I’m not okay. I haven’t been for a long time.