Self denial

She turns on the light and my eyes follow it until I am inside the little green dot. Synchronized sounds and pulses hold me even closer to the light. She asks me to remember the moment.

I want to give my fear beauty and structure but it comes spilling out, ugly and jumbled. I collapse inside, folding into my smallest self. Every thought I have creates an opposite thought of equal dysfunction. I am afraid to show any emotion, but worry that my feelings can’t be hidden. I fret about the truth of my feelings, but then rationalize that emotion has no truth, just authenticity.

I can sense my small self scrambling away from all thinking and feeling. I am stripping down to raw instinct and visceral reaction, until I fear what I remember of this will not be truth. It will be emotion. Except I fear what I remember of this may not be emotion. Maybe it was simply imagined, and at that, dimly. And therefore, my truth will be false and I will be betrayed by logic and emotion and abandoned by my senses.

She turns off the light and I fall from inside of it. She asks me what I remember. I speak words that have no sound. I have a face of numbed anguish.

And we stop so I can cry.

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