Nobody tells you, when things are fine, that fine has a side. That you can be near it and not in it. Adjacent, close, and technically even in the same neighborhood.
On one side: fine. Things working. People coping. The general sense that life is proceeding at an acceptable rate in a reasonable direction.
On the other side: you. Not broken, nor lost. Just somehow always holding the door open for a room you never quite walk into.
The shirt fits, though. That part is fine. You are on the right side of the shirt.
