Expression

Bonding time, they said, and she was unable to repress a sense of dread. She knew where this conversation would head: boys. Boys, and growing up. And knowing her roommates, they'd have wonderfully mature insights on boys and life in general.

She wasn't disappointed. Her friends talked about their entire psycho-emotional histories--family, past heartbreaks, everything--with ease. Finally, she decided she could share something. Although she thought she could perhaps add her two cents to the discussion, it wouldn't come out. The words burned their way up her throat, and she couldn't even meet the eyes of her friends. Monotone, eyes cast down, she struggled through an anecdote. Eventually, she gave up. Why did she need to talk about her painful past, the memories that were better left alone? She was content to listen and eat cookies.

As the excitement waned and the lights went out, she found herself unable to sleep, wondering why she couldn't talk about her feelings. She felt them, sure, but expressing them verbally was impossible. A tear rolled down her cheek as she realized that the rest of her life could be very lonely indeed.

Talking to other people about emotion was a unique experience. She had never had this difficulty expressing herself in words before. The written word was her medium, art that she could form effortlessly. Music flowed even easier. Clearly, it wasn't just about expression. The emotions were there, they could come out--but not through her mouth. Not in words. That aspect of communication was utterly lost to her.

Restless, she rolled over and cried herself to sleep.