[Michel did as he was instructed, but he seemed to do so numbly as though he wasn't even aware of the action of sitting.]

I love him, too much to return and still function effectively. I can't think, I can't sleep, I can't eat...I cannot do anything for the chasm in my chest even though I've spent hours trying to explain it to my head.

[He was too numb to register the dampness on his own cheek, just the thought of him ached, but talking about it was worse.]

I'll do better in Orlais.