You ever get that look?

That “Are you mad at me?” look. 
That “Why aren’t you responding to my third message in 30 seconds?” 
That “You’re being quiet and I don’t like it” energy?

Yeah. That one.

Well here’s the thing: 
I’m not being distant. 
I’m buffering.

Like that little spinning circle on your screen when you’re trying to stream an episode and your Wi-Fi decides it needs a union break.

I am mentally loading. 
Emotionally circling. 
Spiritually waiting for the page to refresh.

Sometimes I am buffering because I’m tired. 
Sometimes I’m buffering because I’ve reached my human interaction limit. 
And sometimes—brace yourself—I’m buffering because I simply don’t feel like engaging at that moment and that… is also valid.

We live in a world that treats responsiveness as a moral obligation. If you don’t respond instantly, you’re cold. If you take time to think, you’re shady. If you take a breath before reacting, you’re labeled “distant” or worse—“uninterested.”

But what if I’m just… a soul with a loading bar?

What if my brain needs a moment to sync with my heart? What if my tongue is waiting on an emotional software update? What if I’m just a person trying not to give a knee-jerk response that ends with regret and a slice of humble pie?

Buffering isn’t avoidance. It’s preservation.

So next time you see me staring off into the distance or pausing before I reply, don’t assume I’m aloof. Don’t assume I’m cold.

Just know—I’m buffering.

And I’ll be back once I’ve got full signal.