Why do i have to tell you everything, in super LOUD letters? Maybe you dint realise but you chopped up my heart very finely yesterday. I don't know how to behave. I am controlled. My skin's tightening with the effort. And I have a ball near my throat, real and illusory, and it aches dully, it aches shrilly till i sleep, till i drown inside the covers, sniffing dolefully at the familiar sleep-smells, trying to retrieve, trying too hard, i believe.