What is the vice that seems to take hold in my chest every time I remember?
Maybe the vice is the weight of all the relationships I failed in.
All the moments I wish I could relive and take control of.
The sensation of emotions that wash over me every time I experience a flashback weighs so heavily on me.
All of a sudden I feel like I am crying and screaming even though I have an impassive expression and dry cheeks.
Grief attempts to claw up my throat, causing my throat to feel agonizingly raw.
All I can do is sit as stoically as I can while my mind pivots and my body becomes numb yet tender with the accompanying urge to escape.
The sounds of rustling papers alert me.
"Have you ever thought about harming yourself or others?"
An impassive expression.
She has done this over and over again, it is but an invasive formality to her.
I am brought back to reality and paste on a serene face.
The grief stays, hanging on to the thread that is my uvula.
"Never."