I’m so… weak. And defective and a loser, and he thinks I’m going to college and I’m going to meet someone and I –” “Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay. Stop,” Willow cuts me off and I go silent, sniffling again. Then she sighs and says, “First of all, you’re not a loser. You’re not weak or defective. You have an illness. You’re struggling, Vi. You’ve been struggling ever since you got out of Heartstone. Like the rest of us, and that’s okay. But you’re struggling more because you keep insisting everything is fine. You keep denying it. You keep pretending.” I keep pretending. She’s right and I’m too
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