The incident three nights ago was simply the tipping point. Considering my college thesis was centered around the negative effects on the body when repressing emotions, it’s almost shocking how much I have kept to myself. A manic laugh slips out as I continue to stare at the stitches above my eye. “I knew better. I always said that I would never be in this position, that I would never allow something like this to happen to me.” My gaze tracks the next tear that slips down my face. There’s no point in wiping it away yet, not when I can feel others about to break free. Massaging the ache in my
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