It's difficult to ever go back to the same places or people. You turn away, even for a moment, and when you turn back around, everything's changed. - Gabrielle Zevin

It's so funny you should say this, because if you were one of my students, you'd be wearing your pain like a badge of honor. This generation doesn't hide anything from anyone. My class talks a lot about their traumas. And how their traumas inform their games. They, honest to God, think their traumas are the most interesting thing about them. I sound like I'm making fun, and I am a little, but I don't mean to be. They're so different from us, really. Their standards are higher; they call bullshit on so much of the sexism and racism that I, at least, just lived with. But that's also made them kind of, well, humorless. I hate people who talk about generational differences like it's an actual thing, and here I am, doing it. It doesn't make sense. How alike were you to anyone we grew up with, you know?

Win walked over to me. He held out his palm. In the middle of it was a single black sequin from the dress Scarlet had lent me. "You lost this," he said.

I giggled, slightly embarrassed to be leaving bits of myself behind. "I'm shedding.

What does love even mean when you can find it with so many people and things?