I am screaming in my head in a manner you will never recognise as me. I cannot scream that way outwardly. But you, right now, have just finished an assignment and are stretching your toes as if your whole being is expanding to embrace the universe. I hate it. That you’re expanding when I am imploding. And yet, watching you lighten up like that makes me not want to suck you into my inner world. Because it also makes me believe that there is sunlight on the other side, and that if anyone has to bask in it when I’m still on the wrong side, I’d rather that someone be you. That’s the only way I know how to love.