How Are You

The question the title asks is deceptively gentle, but the song understands that "how are you" between people with history is never simple. The production here is among Colde's most stripped-back: soft chords, minimal decoration, space left open so the words can sit in it without crowding. His voice carries a careful quality, like someone choosing words deliberately, afraid of saying too much or too little. The emotional landscape is complicated — the song doesn't resolve neatly into sadness or warmth but holds both, the way contact with an ex or an estranged someone always does. There's care still present, and there's distance, and neither cancels the other out. Lyrically, the song is about the social performance of wellness after separation: the ritual of asking and answering fine when both parties understand that fine is a door you leave slightly ajar. This is not music for grief's acute phase — it's for the longer quiet afterward, when the drama has settled and what remains is something subtler and harder to name. It plays best in the kind of solitary moments that don't announce themselves as significant: a walk home in autumn, a pause before sending a message you've been drafting for days.