I still couldn’t make sense of why some people suffered and others did not, why some lives were heaped in misfortune while others were spared. To be young and sick was unfair, so much so that it had felt unbearable in moments. I had always understood, at least in theory, that to rage against all this was pointless—poisonous. But still, I compared my limitations to the liberties of others. I wanted their freedom so badly that I hated them for it.
