Again Again

by E. Lockhart

She was all charm and yet deeply miserable.

The Great God Pan lay on the ground, releasing gas.

But you can be talky and paint your fingernails and still be very sad.

“People befriend me because they think I’m happy. I’m not even sure why they think I’m happy, but they do. I get distracted, and I laugh, and I turn something on in myself that makes me, maybe, fun to be with.

Tragedy is attractive.”

Think of your happy memories. Know they are still in you. They are part of you. And maybe even they ARE you.

Adelaide wished to love someone and be loved back.

Whale to you too.”

“You can think you’re happy and not be happy.”

“And this other guy, he makes you happy?” “It’s not his job to make me happy,” she told him.

The process of making would stretch open the universe until it was frighteningly and gloriously wide with possibility.