Sometimes I look at Molly and I wonder if I’ve ever even seen her, ever even seen what she really looks like, because I don’t see her face when I look at her. I see a face with the life squeezed out of it. And there are moments where I forget, where Molly’s laughing, and I catch myself enjoying her, and then I remember I can’t. Because I took that away from other people, and they never get to enjoy their kid laughing, or smiling, or growing. Not ever again. I want them to forgive me, but I know they can’t, because I couldn’t forgive me if it was Molly. Sometimes I think I didn’t need a life
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