This isn’t about being okay — it’s about performing okay.
The slow, polite death of honesty. The quiet stacking of tiny betrayals disguised as chill replies.
Because every time someone says “It’s fine” when it’s absolutely not, an angel crash-lands and a new resentment is born.
It’s not pettiness. It’s survival.
Wrapped in a smile. Delivered in lowercase.
And silently screaming: “This is me, not starting a fight. This is me, walking away with a list.”