prexton

A sample from the desk. If someone you love learned to answer “I'm fine” before you finish asking, this is the letter I would write to them, in your place.

***

To the one who keeps saying you're fine,

I believe you. That is the problem.

You are fine the way a house is fine after the storm. Still standing. Lights on. Nobody looking at the roof.

You have gotten good at it. You say it fast now, before I can ask, and you smile at the end so I will not follow up. I used to follow up. Then I stopped, because you made it cost something to care.

So here is what I want to say, without making it cost anything.

I am not asking you to fall apart. I am not asking for the version of you that needs me. I would just like to sit in the same room as the truth once. You do not have to say it out loud. You can just stop performing fine for an hour and let me see the actual weather.

You do not owe me the whole story. I have known you long enough to read the parts you skip.

And if today is not the day, fine. Keep this somewhere. Somebody noticed, and did not look away.

Prexton

***

How the desk works: free opening lines first. If they land, the letter is $25 by card, two revisions, three days. Each letter is written for one person and never reused. [email protected]