He booked counseling, told the truth to a stranger in a warm room with too many throw pillows. “Jokes were my shield,” he said. “They became her target.”
“Who taught you to hide behind laughter?” the therapist asked. “Who taught you to come out?” He didn’t have answers yet, which is different from having none.
He left with homework that didn’t feel like punishment: practice honesty without spectacle. Practice quiet without retreat.
