I Am Lying

Why do we tell people that we are fine?
It would seem as time goes by, the synonyms of fine (in good health, well, healthy, all right, fit, blooming, thriving, in good shape, etc) are being replaced with not-good-enough-but-I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it-unless-you're-the-right-person-I-would-want-to-discuss-my-life-with.
Seriously.
I do it all the time, speaking from personal experience. In fact, I even get downright agitated if the person I do NOT want to ask, "Just fine?" is the only one who asks. So often, I wish I had a sign to carry around to say, "It's you! Please talk to me! Please ask me why I'm not fantastic/wonderful/fit as a fiddle!"
I also have those moments where I am completely blunt--I say I am not well at all. Downright depressed/upset/lonely. But THEN (of course) I back it with, "but don't worry, it will pass!" What? Good golly, Miss Molly! What the heck are you doing? I ask myself.
And perhaps the answer is a bit selfish, even self-centered. But the only thing I can come up with is a desperate desire to find someone who will push and who will wonder/worry/care! enough to ask--or wait patiently until I finally pour my heart out to them.

Why do we feel the need to test people like that? Even those who, from the get go, we have already agreed either aloud or in our mutual silence that we will never expect them TO delve that deeply? To drop everything or give of their precious time to listen to us complain, moan, and cry about why life is so hard on us?
I have heard the saying quite often as of late that, "The heart wants what it wants." Stupid heart! Why will you not listen to your sensible brain? Or rather, do our hearts really "want" pain? Or are they just "asking for it" by searching for something that is just simply not to be found? "Looking for love in all the wrong places," is another popular one and one that definitely rings truer to my ear than the first.

I hurt myself often. By allowing hopes and false possibilities to spring up and fester (I say fester because oftener than not, it is more a wound than anything) I let my daydreaming heart run faster than by sensibilities can fly. And then, this heart of mine, tumbles off the cliff, plummeting to its doom before I even realize what the heck I am doing.
So. To all those who haven't, can't, or won't ever live up to the expectations that my childish, self-centered, dreamy heart decides to plant and water---I apologize and hope that you won't hold it against me forever.

I think I am done ranting now.

Love,
Me