"Practice honesty to find feeling"

My backpack smelled of instant coffee and cheap notebooks, and for months I rehearsed a smile in the bathroom mirror before class. Saying I was fine came easy. Saying the truth felt like setting off a small alarm inside my chest. I had a list of rehearsed responses for parents and friends that kept the questions short and the evenings quieter.

Therapy taught me to name the physical things: my throat tight as a fist, the way sleep left me hollow-eyed. I learned to answer honestly to a friend on a park bench while late summer heat warmed our knees. She leaned in, not away, and her hand smelled like sunscreen. Saying the truth did not make people disappear.

I rehearsed being okay for so long I forgot what real felt like.