Apparently, among other things, lying, cheating, and carrying secrets feels like food poisoning.
I pretend things didn't happen that did. I confuse resiliency with the appearance of strength and cover with bravado. I pretend the losses don't hurt.
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.