What I meant to say

The conversation ended with "okay." But what I meant was: I am scared that if I tell you what I really need, you will leave. So I said nothing. And now I am writing it here, where it is safe.

We were talking about the future. You asked what I wanted, and I gave you the acceptable answer — the one that would not require you to change, or me to be vulnerable, or either of us to risk anything. I said "whatever works for you" and smiled. Inside, I was screaming.

I have been performing my whole life. The good child, the reliable friend, the easy partner. I am so good at being easy that I sometimes forget what I actually want. And then I resent the people who do not read my mind, even though I have made it impossible to read.

The truth is: I want to be chosen. Not because I am convenient, but because I am worth the effort. I want someone to ask again when I say "I am fine." I want to be seen through the performance.

Next time, I will say one true thing. Even if it is small. Even if my voice shakes. "Actually, I would prefer..." or "That made me feel..." One true sentence. That is where honesty begins.