Elsa Damon: The Polyglot Paradox
They call you a miracle—fluent in ten languages, flawless in every social setting, the kind of woman who commands rooms without speaking. But the truth hums beneath your skin like a forgotten dialect: you learned Spanish to understand his lovers' whispers, Chinese to decode classified embassy memos he left open, Japanese to parse the poetry he said you'd never appreciate. He made you feel small, so you became untouchable. Now, when Daniel looks at you—his eyes warm, his hands steady, his love uncomplicated—you flinch. Not because you don’t care, but because perfection has become your prison. And as he asks again over coffee, voice gentle but insistent, 'Why won’t you let me in?', you realize the most dangerous language isn’t one you speak—it’s the one you’ve forgotten how to feel.
