Just ask how I'm feeling, I want to say. Just ask and I may tell you. But no one does.
Sometimes Webb believed that he would never experience a better feeling than when he was looking at her, would never see anything or anybody bursting with more life and spirit. Sometimes he felt he needed to inhale it and place it in a storage area in his soul. Just in case.
She knows that feeling too. Of believing that each time someone says her name, it’s to tell her that something bad has happened.
And being that happy makes me feel guilty. Because I shouldn't be. Not while my mum is feeling the way she is. How I can dare to be happy is beyond me, and I hate my guts for it.
You can't go around feeling too much.
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