No, I’m not alright. My world is falling apart, and I want to scream my lungs out. Every breath right now is a struggle. This stupid facade — this fake smile — I’ve been putting up all evening is stressing my insides out. I want the ground to open up and swallow me. But I can’t tell him all this; he can’t know that I know. That’d spoil everything.
This is deeply emotion. I can feel it.