Once, she’d assumed they had the same worries she did, but hid their anxiety extremely well. As she’d grown older, she’d come to understand something more incredible. They just didn’t feel that anxiety. They didn’t have a constant, hovering worry in the back of their brain, whispering they’d forgotten something important. They didn’t spend hours thinking about the mistakes they’d made, and how they could have planned better. They lived in a perpetual state between blessed contentment and frightening ignorance.
