I am fine

“I am fine”

I called Shiela. Seemingly on a whim.

Shiela is one of my childhood best friends. We went to high school together and we were inseparable. We liked the same things and talked about life and existence and meaning far beyond our years. A nightmare to our teachers, we kept on falling out of swings, getting chased by the principal’s dog, and skipping math classes every so often.

Our birthdays are one day apart. And our handwriting is almost identical.

But we had not seen in each other in years, probably ten.

So, it was a random call on a random Saturday.

I asked Shiela if she wanted to go to a salon to have our hair done.

She said she was in the middle of something.

Oh, sure.

But then she said she’d meet me right away.

I was surprised with the yes.

But, yes, I was hoping for a yes.

I was desperate for a yes.

We met at the salon. We hugged each other.

I remember her face, beaming at the thought of getting our hair done together.

She was saying something about how posh the salon was.

I had a hair spa. She had that, too, I had my nails done. She did, too.

Towards the end of a one-day pampering, she asked me how I was.

My thoughts were racing.

I needed the day off. I needed to get out of the house. I wanted to get away from my thoughts. I was regretting the many life decisions I made.

But I looked at Shiela and said, “I am fine.”

She looked at me, her eyes started to well, but I couldn’t see anything through the tears I was holding back.

I said nothing.

She said nothing. She understood.