I don't eat. I don't breathe. Jono nodded in agreement. No pints, no treats, no talking. It makes certain social gatherings a little complicated and awkward. No heartbeat, because no heart.
Like meal times at the school.
I think I do pretty well with the mentally willing things to not explode, but I won't delude myself into thinking that I have it all under control. I hurt my girlfri-ex girlfriend when everything happened, blew up a good section of a club. I remained unharmed, generally, aside from losing a giant chunk of myself. She'll be in a wheelchair forever. I'm worried about that happening again.