i read something in brene brown, about how vulnerability isn't weakness, but for a minute it just felt like a spotlight, burning everything away until there's nothing left but the trembling. and that's the gap, isn't it, between the knowing and the feeling, between the words on the page and the ache in my throat like i swallowed all the things i still can't say. dr. reeves says the body remembers, but god, i wish it would just forget sometimes.