“People will always love telling you how you’re supposed to be feeling and it will always make you feel less than when you don’t feel it. I’m sorry if I was being one of those people.” She shook her head. “How old are you?” “Eighteen.” “I’ll tell you what I wish someone told me when I was eighteen – it never goes away.” “What is ‘it,’ exactly?” “All of it, any of it, just it.”
