You tell yourself it’s not a big deal. Someone talked over a quieter player again. Someone else made a joke that didn’t quite land, and the whole table went quiet for a second too long. Then someone corrected you mid-scene, like they were doing you a favour. You smile. You move on. You patch it up. Because you’re the GM. It’s your job to keep things moving, to keep people engaged, to make sure everyone’s having fun. You’re the one who keeps the ship steady, even when the waves get weird. But somewhere under the surface, something starts to wear thin. It’s not dramatic. There’s no explosion. Just a quiet…