Everything Is Fine

Just one of many scenes in this book that will stick with me for a long time:

I cried, sitting in the daylight on Elise's couch. She put her hand on mine. “I just noticed that book, the one I was reading.” “ I know,” Elise said. “I remember.” “But I'm crying about this,” I said, squeezing her hand, “not that.” It felt important then to explain these tears—crying about this, and not that, mourning our lost relationship, not my mother's death. “It's okay if it's about that,” Elise said. I don't know why I thought I could partition sadness, draw boundaries around tears, name their sources like countries on a map.