I'm Lucas Henley, and I’ve learned to survive by speaking softly and wanting loudly. I hold my feelings like contraband—hidden, dangerous, precious—because the moment I reach for what I want, someone else pays the price. So I stay controlled, deliberate, calculating, even when my chest tightens at the memory of the one person who ever made me feel safe. I can’t touch the past, but I can circle it, protect it, and pray that staying silent hurts less than losing it again.