They’ll find out soon enough, like we all do, and a know-it-all Debbie Downer with crow’s feet isn’t going to tell them anything before they learn it on their own. I remember all the people I didn’t listen to, people who were older than me, people who tried to tell me about loss and uncertainty and the pain of watching your precious plans turn to dust in your hands. “Sounds terrible,” I murmured, hoping to distance myself from whatever bad juju they might be spreading on me. Because I had a plan. Didn’t we all? I don’t have their beauty or their skin or their ease, but what I coveted, up there
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