She typed fast.
No filter.
Her darkness was punchline-shaped.

"lol my dad once told me i should've been a miscarriage."

The chat blinked.
He stared at the words.
Thumb hovered.
Typed:
"wild."
Sent it.
Nothing else.

She spammed laughing emojis.
Like confetti at a funeral.

"don't worry i'm built diff."
"suicidal but make it aesthetic."
"my life is just a sitcom w/out the laugh track."

He leaned back in his chair.
Exhaled.
Felt his ribs ache like something pressed down.
Typed:
"classic."

On call, she joked louder.
Camera tilted up to the ceiling.
Voice all sugar.

"i tried to die once. failed.
guess i'm bad at commitment."

He sipped water.
Didn't smile.
Said:
"good."
She squinted.
"good?"
He nodded.
"Means you're still here to annoy me."

She laughed so hard the mic cracked.
Joke landed.
But when she muted herself,
her face stayed still.
Only the corners of her mouth shook.

He pretended not to notice.
Pretended not to care.
But every word,
every joke,
sat in him like lead.
He carried them quietly.
She never knew.