“You.” “Me … what?” His face slowly contorts as his head draws back an inch. “Every time I think of you, I feel like I’m on the verge of a heart attack,” I admit. “My chest grows tight, and my airway swells. I get dizzy, helpless. I literally can’t breathe when it happens. Breaking into my skin helps bring me back. It’s the only control I have. It makes everything easier.”
