Who Could Ever Love You

A good passage

The truth, a truth, is that I was a happy kid, but as I adjusted in order to survive, I became warped to the contours of the circumstances of growing up.

Even so, each time I experienced a setback, I got back on my feet and then tried to accomplish more. But there was attrition. Each time, it got harder; there was less to draw on, a peeling away of strength and purity of intent. Extrinsic motives intruded, and the dark places in between got darker and encroached further. Sometimes it felt like I was a chicken who’d had her head cut off, but it just took a very long time for me to realize it. How many chances do you get, right?