Chapter 15

I had no heart.

So I was unworthy of loving, and unworthy of being loved.

The night terrors tortured me, leaving me aching and exhausted.

Due to the online backlash, my teacher asked me to cancel my schedule for the next few days.

I spent many days at home in a daze.

Washing my face one morning, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.

My pajama collar was low, revealing a small tattoo beneath my collarbone.

A small, unassuming tattoo: a delicate heart intertwined with ‘Adrian’.

Whenever I went out, my clothes would meticulously cover it.

For all these years, no one but me knew it was there.

Just as my heart, burning bright and fervent, had been hidden in the shadows.

But it had never once been offered up for anyone to see.

I had endured too much suffering; I dared not love again, dared not speak of love.

Once, I said I loved my grandmother.

Yet I left her alone and waiting for me for seven long years.

Later, I loved my mother. I painstakingly sewed her a scarf for New Year's.

What I got in return was a slap across the face and a lecture for wasting my time on meaningless things.

Even later, I loved my father.

What I got in return was the most vile and unspeakable truth.

After Adrian and I broke up, for a long time, I reflected deeply.

I realized I *had* loved him.

I would break down and cry when he was in a car accident.

I would want to share my victories with him, like winning a major award.

I would travel for over ten hours straight, rushing to the city where he was on business.

I would endure excruciating pain to get his name tattooed, despite being allergic to anesthetics.

But I couldn't express my love with my eyes, couldn’t say the words "I love you."

I slowly extinguished the passionate, fiery heart he had carefully offered me.

Many times, he would excitedly tell me he loved me, but all I felt was a bewildering emptiness.

I thought, I must not be normal.

After Adrian and I broke up, my mentor introduced me to a psychologist, and I went for a few sessions.

Only later did I learn that I truly wasn't normal.

The doctor said I had Emotional Detachment Disorder. He said it was a psychological condition.

Emotional detachment, a dulled reaction and perception of emotions.