But it would have taken everything I had, and I didn’t want that to be my life. I wanted to finish school, and not only that, but finish growing up. I wanted a home and a family someday: a regular family with nobody sick and nobody addicted, a real family where everybody wants to be together, in the kind of home where friends could come visit. I knew someday I’d want a child. Maybe someday I’d even write a book. These weren’t such big ideas, really, in the scheme of things, but to me they were visions I’d only glimpsed through other people’s windows. How do you make yourself a family out of
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