That morning
you made me remember
why I had
shut myself
from feelings.

I suddenly
went back in time,
years before,
when mom and dad
had their first and only fight.

Or maybe,
their first and only fight
in front of me.

I suddenly remembered
that was the night
I had my first panic attack.

I suddenly remembered
that was the night
I first felt how feeling nothing
and feeling everything at the same time
felt like.

I suddenly remembered
crying
out loud,
while hopping
all the screaming would eventually end,
without them
putting an end to being together.

I suddenly remembered
searching for my breath
and almost falling out the window,
as I was trying
to reach for fresh air.

I suddenly remembered
losing my voice,
after trying hard
not to say something
that could make things worse.

I suddenly remembered
the view I had in front of my eyes,
while contemplating
about forever putting an end
to all the feels.

I suddenly remembered
what having no feelings felt like,
and not a single part of me
ever wanted to go back
to feeling nothing.

So,
that morning
I did
what I had done that night.

I just sat there,
listening,
not knowing what to say
and how to deal
with what I was feeling.

When I looked you in the eyes,
I suddenly saw myself
and I realized
that you were just
as afraid of feelings,
as I was that one night.