[Why is somehow the most loaded question Sam could have asked, and also the easiest to answer. Her immediate instinct is not to do that, but she'll have to see, because Sam is proving both persistent and very kind. She manages not to flinch when that hand comes down on her shoulder, but she's tense, even to brief, casual contact. A stronger, more outgoing response really would have spooked her, so she appreciates the toned-down reassurance. Instead, she does her best to keep her breathing under control and her eyes from tearing up.]

Even if there isn't, it's... really hard to make myself feel like there isn't, some days. I just. Hide it okay, most of the time. [At least, Sam isn't on the short-ish list of people who have seen the facade crack... or, well, wasn't until today.] But I spent long enough with people telling me there was, that I think I started to believe it.

[It's somehow a more stable response than her apology for being a mess, and even if it's the short short version, it gets the point across well enough for her to feel like she's... kind of explained herself? Not truly, but enough to get across why she reacts the way she does. Although, to add to it-]

So I'm not really... sure what I need. A friendly ear, sure. Studying... maybe. [A wry, tired smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, as she adds:] Therapy, I think, but I'll saddle a professional with that.