She has traumas of her own that she’s been ignoring, long before my pile of problems joined the mix. As an immigrant, this is survival mode.

“If he’s two-timing you, he’s a piece of shit.”

My heart bursts like electric sprinkles inside my chest.

She looks devastated and so small. It’s like she’s looking for permission to exist. An impossible thing to find.

So think whatever you want about me. Nothing is worse than what happens inside my head.”

“Now that you’re old, aren’t you, like, allowed to do whatever you want without asking? But you never do. It’s like you’ve grounded yourself.”

“You kids today spend more time trying to make people miserable online than making yourselves happy in real life.