I'm sure some therapist would have a label. I don't keep up with whatever new ways there are to dig up our psyche. You wouldn't want mine.

{ His voice is light, even if the backdrop of their conversation is anything but it. He probably needs to move on before it lashes, but the itch to delve is still leftover from what he's been trying to run away from. }

Stress can be good. It can save you to know what danger to avoid. It also depends on who gives it. { A pause. The wind whistles and fills the silence. } You can get it out. I don't mind. I only ever recall true peace with one person. My father cared, and I believed him. I've been trying to be good like him since he died.