When I was a little girl, in tears, Mom would stroke my hair and whisper, “This too shall pass.” But this—whatever this is—will never pass. Heartbreak is an incurable disease. At times, it’s dormant. Quiet. But you know it’s there, taunting as it lingers. Occasional flare-ups that intensify after periods of remission. I’m living with this disease, learning how to manage it. Own it.
