Dear Anonymous,
He is telling me a story about a friend slitting his wrists. I look at his forearms. The inside of his forearms show long white scars running about 6 inches long. One arm carries 3 or 4 crisscrossed scars.
I pause.
He looks up at me.
'I have disassociative disorder. One of me was telling me to cut. The other was being cut.'
I am still pausing.