“I hate this, but it’s true: being with happy people freaks me out,′ she said. ‘When I see them, all I could think about is how quickly their joy could end. A punch to the face. One phone call. Some hard truth. A shatter of ego. Or a house fire. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Maybe my brain needs some sort of contrast. I get scared for them. Eggshells who care about things like almond milk. I get jealous actually. I think, ‘How could you be that way?”
