Fine

What else am I supposed to say? That I’m tired of having to explain concepts that should be common sense to a grown man? How about that? Is that a good answer? No? Then I’m fine.

You call me passive aggressive. You think I'm being over-dramatic? I think you’re aggressively stupid, passively oblivious and dramatically disconnected from reality.  You're either willfully ignorant or a complete asshole.  Or both. How about that?  Is that a good answer? No? Then I’m fine.

Can I say that I have found myself in a situation for which there is no outcome, no series of choices that won’t lead to a painful, complicated mess? Can I say that I have been backed into a corner in every possible way?

Each time I manage to find a ray of hope, a glimmer of optimism I get smacked in the face by cold hard reality.

What else am I supposed to say when you ask the dumbest possible questions?

What else am I supposed to say when you ask if I’m okay when you know I’m not?

What else am I supposed to say when you ask me what’s wrong, when we both know what’s wrong?

You know what's wrong.
You know what's wrong.
You fucking KNOW what's wrong. Why are you playing games?

Insult to injury. Insult to injury.

The initial offense isn't enough. No, you have to make me feel dumb on top of it by pretending to know not even KNOW what's wrong. Or that something is wrong at all.

Infuriating. Maddening. Excruciating.

You pretend to be concerned and confused. You want to feign ignorance and I am forced to play along or appear emotional and irrational.

"Are you upset about something? I can't imagine what could be wrong.  I certainly didn't do anything."

I guess that means I’m fine.

Fine.