Why I look for what I did wrong when someone replies “ok”
An “ok.” comes in, with the full stop, and your stomach tightens before you've finished reading it.
You scroll back up the conversation. You reread your last message, looking for the sentence that was too much, the smiley that was missing. You replay the last time you saw each other: what did I say? An hour later you have a full case against yourself, and nobody has accused you of anything. It hurts me a little for you, this investigation you run alone on your couch.
A dry “ok.” can come from a meeting, a phone at 3%, a day that ran too long. Still, you pick the explanation that puts you in the middle: it's me. At least a fault can be fixed. “It's just a long day” leaves your hands with nothing to do. So you keep the fault. It costs you your evening, and little by little, other people's moods become your job.
A fault can be fixed. A long day leaves you nothing to do.
I was wondering…
What feels worse than being at fault, on the evenings you look and can't find anything you did?