It was crazy how well she understood me. It made me want to keep talking, turn myself inside out and admit that I was scared to see my father because I didn’t want to feel sorry for him—I didn’t want to feel anything for him, because I didn’t like things I couldn’t control, including that she was leaving and I was scared of being lost and lonely without her. That I was going to miss her so much it hurt. That somehow I’d fallen in love with her, when that had been the one fucking thing I was so sure wouldn’t happen. That my feelings were building and growing and spreading like wildfire, and I
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