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What Matters When Everything Breaks at Once
It started small, the way these things often do.
I stayed by the grill, keeping to myself, doing something useful. Lisa didn’t. The comments came one after another—about my past, about choices I’d made, about who she thought I was.
Not because it didn’t hurt, but because not every insult deserves a response. Some things are better left to fade on their own.
But then she crossed a line that wasn’t hers to cross.