Julian and Fiona had learned to operate all of them, expertly, the way you learn the controls of a machine.

My love was a handle they pulled to make me give.

My guilt was a button they pressed to make me apologize.

My fear was a lever that made me quiet.

As long as I was feeling, I was steerable, and they knew it, and they steered me for five years.

But numbness has no handles.