"...thanks. That's nice, of you. Everyone seems— everyone seems really nice." Her grip on the glass tightens until her knuckles pale— then her face scrunches, she breathes deeply, and the grip relaxes. "I'm sorry, if I've seemed— kind of out of it. It's just because— well, I am. I am... out of it. I don't really feel— right? Right now? It's not you, or... or anyone. It's me."

It comes out so vague she feels like a crazy person, but not explaining how listless she must seem feels almost rude.