Let Me Start with the Hard Things (And Yet)

It wasn’t easy to say the words, but it was even crazier to hear them.

My eyes locked on hers when she said them, sure and clear, like the most normal thing in the world. If I could pull each word apart, string it together like the most dangerous lasso, my neck could go right there, the rope threads just where they needed to be. “We’ve all had abortions,” she said. “We’ve all messed up.”