I was always longing for something. Longing in my body was so familiar I didn’t usually notice the feeling; that would have been like a magnet experiencing its own field, the pull toward, the hungry mouth. It was easy to mistake the emptiness of longing as something that wanted filling with M&M’s, time with friends, new clothes, accomplishments, a boyfriend, and it was also easy to be frightened by the ceaseless dark cave call of I am alone and I may die.
-Anne Heffron
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