Pangs.

I could write novels about pain. Not the kind of pain you get when you break your arm, but the kind that makes your broken heart go into your throat, so that it takes all of your energy and concentration to breathe. The kind of pain that makes you want to scream & sob at the same time. The kind of pain that makes you want to hurt everyone around you because you’re suffering & they’re not, because they can breathe without feeling guilty & hold a normal conversation without breaking down into fits of tears or rage. A pain that bites it’s tongue and nods acceptably when asked if okay.