The first time I realized that something in me is irreversibly broken was the time when I remind myself to laugh because the joke was funny.
It’s not sarcasm either.
When my friends and classmates around me all laughed at the joke, I noticed something missing.
I touched my face, my mouth, my cheeks, hoping I am putting a smile at least.
I was not.
I feel a sliver of confusion and panic.
Laugh, I told myself. And I did.
Since then, I was getting more conscious of my, sometimes, general lack of reaction to everything. Anger, sadness, happiness. It’s weird to miss feelings.
Apathy, I realized, is more disturbing than I thought.
I grieve for the loss of my heart.