Fine

Don't worry, because I knew what you meant when you said everything would be fine. Because I've been through it too many times to retain that "naive hope." Because I mean the same thing when I say things will be fine, and that you'll be fine. Because I know that fine is never just fine. Because I use it so many times, the only definition that make sense any more is the meaning you gave.

I never liked it when he told me he was fine. "How was your day?" "Fine." "How were classes?" "Fine." And I'd press him for more details, and eventually they'd come, but conversations rarely started without a "Fine."

And it bothered me because my own version of "fine" was so different from his own. That my "fine" seemed to be so different from everyone else's. Because my fine meant more than just fine. Because my fine wasn't just a backup answer. Because my fine meant that I that I was struggling, that I was fighting hard to see the hope that wasn't evident to me, but that despite this, I knew that this was just another test. Because I would keep going and get through it, and whatever was holding me back at the moment wouldn't be in the future. Because my fine didn't mean that I was okay, it meant that I would be, eventually. It didn't mean that I wasn't failing, wasn't struggling, but that despite this, I knew there was a bigger meaning and things that were more important. My fine wasn't neutral.

And people knew this, if they didn't completely understand it. That my default mode wasn't "fine." Because my default was "pretty good," and my days were never "bad." At first they would ask me, "Why? What made your day good?" And they found it weird that I never really had a particular reason. And they found it even weirder that even on days I got back a failing test grade, bruised myself in guard, tripped and forgot things, I still called it a pretty good day. Because, I thought, just one good thing would be enough to counter most of the bad things which happened. Because one blessing, however small, gave enough hope to get me through most of the troubles of the day. And after a while, I guess my friends caught on a little. Because when I responded to "How are you?" with "Fine." some of them would ask "Why just fine?" And I would know that they knew, that they had realized my fine meant more than just fine.

So don't worry about telling me it will be fine, because even if your definition of fine doesn't line up with your meaning, mine does. 

I know that fine is never that simple.