I used to be an extrovert. Audacious, someone told me once. And they said it like this, “You used to be.”
The low point came when I was describing to Michael a random and meaningless incident in my day. It was sort of a lemon juice moment to the paper cut of the days leading up to it, but nothing remotely horrifying. And anyway, I cried – just a little – and said something like everything is so unfair. Like, all the things. In the world. That’s basically what I said.
It was so surreal to read in L.M. Montgomery’s journals that she had a nagging, exaggerated fear of cancer. I had the same thing as a child and teen. Then, much to my chagrin, I got to face the stupid thing head-on in the last year of my twenties. You all know how that turned out – I’m still alive, and I am – dare I say it – stronger.