she’d practically been poised for the breakup. In some inexplicable way she’d been looking forward to it and all its attendant drama, because wasn’t there something nearly lovely—when you were young enough—about guts churning and tear ducts being put to glorious overuse? She recognized the undeniable satisfaction of the first emotional fissure because an unraveling was still something grown-up and, therefore, life affirming. See? the broken heart signaled. I loved enough to lose; I felt enough to weep. Because when you were young enough, the stakes of love were so very small, nearly
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