It's so weird to me that you describe me as emotionless and blank. Me without emotion is foreign. Anyone will tell you I'm one of the most emotional, passionate people you've ever met. You praise me for sharing what I share, but to me that's just information. Information is cheap. I've been hoarding emotions and I protect them dearly.
When a tidal wave is building, the tide lowers as the building wave drains the shoreline. I'm haunted by a tidal wave of deeply saturated emotion. This emotion is not a cut, but a deep flesh wound that would cause me to bleed to death. Every day I feel it growing and it hovers at the back of my mind where even I do not dare to wander. Triggers grow ever more frequent and at the drop of a hat my eyes well up and I glimpse the tempest before shutting the doors. My dam springs leaks here and there but soon will come the day where the dam will collapse and it is that day that I dread. That day terrifies me.
I do not know what will come on this day but the aftermath will be catastrophic. I'm hovering above the edge of a canyon and I cannot see the bottom. I feel like my entire identity is a deep-rooted tree that's been digging into the ground for 19 years, but this tidal wave, when unleashed, threatens to wipe away the tree and rip its roots right out of the ground.
So this pale, emotionless life that I'm living is the precursor to that attack. My days lack emotion as the shore lacks water because the wave sucks it all up into its growth. I don't know what this wave is or what it came from, but I live each day is constant fear of its presence and what it will inevitably unleash.