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I was both relieved and irritated when Reva showed up, the way you’d feel if someone interrupted you in the middle of suicide. Not that what I was doing was suicide. In fact, it was the opposite of suicide. My hibernation was self-preservational. I thought that it was going to save my life.
I imagine this is what having a sister is like, someone who loves you enough to point out all your flaws.
Being pretty only kept me trapped in a world that valued looks above all else.
OH, SLEEP. Nothing else could ever bring me such pleasure, such freedom, the power to feel and move and think and imagine, safe from the miseries of my waking consciousness.
I’d been stupid to believe that employment would add value to my life.
But I think I was also holding on to the loss, to the emptiness of the house itself, as though to affirm that it was better to be alone than to be stuck with people who were supposed to love you, yet couldn’t.
Rejection, I have found, can be the only antidote to delusion.
There she is, a human being, diving into the unknown, and she is wide awake.

