When was the last time someone asked—
really asked—
“How are you?”
Not just the words,
not just a passing phrase
dropped in the space between hello and goodbye,
but a question that waited,
lingered,
held its breath for the truth.

When was the last time someone cared?
Not out of habit,
not out of duty,
but because your silence felt heavy,
because your laughter didn’t reach your eyes,
because they noticed
what you’ve been too busy to see.

And have you even asked yourself?
Past the noise,
past the rehearsed replies,
past the I’m fine that feels like a locked door.
Have you stood still long enough
to sit with the answer?

Let’s put the banter to one side.
Easier said than done, I know.
No need to overthink, no need to fix—
just breathe.
Just be.
And if no one else asks today,
then I will:

How are you, really?