Now I know I’ll never be numb again. A mother is condemned to feel everything forever. And I’m finally afraid, condemned to fear everything forever. But that makes sense: feel someone else’s pain, feel someone else’s everything.And he’s my baby, so everything’s okay.

I thought getting old meant getting wise. Or at least secure. I don't know why I thought that; I don't know any wise, secure old people. Maybe I inferred it from after-school specials. And I'd like to think by the time you die, you've figured something out. That you aren't lying there wondering what the hell just happened.

You started with a broken heart and blamed everyone you met after that for breaking it.