This is how the human heart beats, a twisted staccato of love and envy, of anger and relief.
Anastasia Romanov had three sisters. I have three sisters. And I don’t know if there is any relationship on earth so fraught or so comforting as that of sisters. You are the same but different. You would die for them, but you don’t want to share your makeup. You long to be your own person but you want to remain joined at the hip. Sometimes you weep over their failures…and sometimes you secretly rejoice. You’d strangle them if you could—but God help anyone else who tries to do the same.
It’s complicated.
But it was very easy to imagine how one sister would feel, looking at another who has not only been spared her misfortune, but is completely unaware of it.
Michael Mcnulty and 14 other people liked this
