Question marks are worse than exclamation points. Bad news is better than dread. Every time.
“Oh God, did I miss my flight?” VS “I missed my flight!”
A question mark is a reverse Pandora’s Box, sitting hungrily on your kitchen floor. It chuckles to itself between bites as your traitorous wall clock spoon-feeds plausibilities into it until all that’s left in the fridge are the horrible things. A loved one is late, then lost, then unfaithful, injured, and dead in a matter of hours.
“Oh God, did I say something horrible?” VS “Wow. OK. Guess I was an asshole!” (Or “Wow. What a brush with a psycho that turned out to be!”)
That little period under every question mark is secretly just another question mark in disguise, with another below that. It’s question marks all the way down. That period is a liar. A false profit who keeps rescheduling Armageddon. A tiny black hole.
“Are we still in love?” VS “Moving on is going to be really, really hard.”