And then, too, I had learned early to assume something dark and lethal hidden at the heart of anything I loved. When I couldn’t find it, I responded, bewildered and wary, in the only way I knew how: by planting it there myself.
— Tana French, In the Woods
Will I ever learn to wish someone well – “I hope you’ll be happy!” – and mean it?
Why is it that everyone I love, leaves (me)?