“You and Benny are my magic,” she said. And it was so honest and raw that I felt like the most horrible daughter for all the ways I’d been resenting her. All the ways I’d withheld from her. She hadn’t wanted to be rejected, but all I’d done for years was reject her. My eyes stung. But, how do you stop a pattern? How do you get out of the well-worn groove of your own anger and hurt?
