As I told her the story, I became aware that these were not the thoughts and feelings of a man but the wounds of a boy. Whenever I grew close to someone, the wounds formed a moat between that person and me. I rationally and intellectually understood how ridiculous it was that these thoughts and feelings from so long ago had been the driving force of my life up until now, but our bodies have a memory of their own—memory encoded in feelings. Sometimes the memories in our bodies are stronger than our will. And sometimes, until we bring them to light, those memories are the unconscious programs
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