It is a basic question humans ask each other on a daily basis.

"How are you?"

Never have I ever seen the truth come out of their lips. Although, how could I tell? Maybe it is the fidgety hands or just the bounce they performed. Now, I'm describing myself. Aren't I?

If you ask me that question, I can hardly say "I'm fine" without having to take a deep breath and my throat would try to reach for that one glass of water, making a simple interaction a hundred times peculiar than it should be.

My throat stays dry for another two years or so.

It has been four years since my very first unconvincing "I'm fine"

I wonder when would be the right time to confess about this. Perhaps, I don't have to. I made my mother worried once I had my "first" panic attack. I can not exactly say that was the first one but my family hasn't really done anything about the lines on my skin.

Well, mom asked me about it. She pointed at it and said, "What is that?"
And then, I got annoyed and threw the topic back on to the shelves, hoping she had noticed something is not right.

It is not that I want my mother to feel bad. I'd never want for the woman who was blessed to have had the surgery of her cancer cells cancelled to frown. Why blessed, you ask? The thing is the first ultra sound was a gold digging snob. Blunt but true. Without the second option of a decent kind, I wouldn't be writing this.

I would have never got the chance to listen to music.

Hence, yes I'm fine.