She, herself, had only been in love once and it ended worse than a train wreck would, and she hated herself for what she had become because of it. Because of her ex-boyfriend, she didn’t trust easily, she didn’t date as much anymore, and she found herself not believing in love anymore. She told herself that after him, she was never going to put her heart through love again.
Francesca was a strong believer in fate. She assumed he picked up the habit from her therapist who was constantly preaching that “everything happened for a reason”, but regardless she now spouted out that philosophy like she was paid to. Everything big in her life, she believed it was all a part of God’s plan – it was all fate. So the way she saw it, it had to be fate that Paul came into her life like this.
Sometimes I wonder if other people think about death - frequently, or just in general. I wonder if they think about it casually, like they’re thinking of the weather, or if they think of it lying awake at night, haunted by their own thoughts. I wonder… if they do think about it, do they ever think about their own death - the when, the how?