“I wanted to touch her vanishing red heart, too, as much as anything I’d ever wanted. As I rose from my chair, my head was still swimming some. I walked toward black Mary with my hand lifted. But just as I was about to reach her, June stopped playing. She stopped right in the middle of the song, and I was left in the silence with my hand stretched out. Drawing it back, I looked around me, and it was like seeing everything through a train’s thick window. A blur passed before me. A moving wave of color. I am not one of you, I thought.
This part broke my heart more than I think was necessary. But in this moment it was so clear that these were the people that she felt she could relate to. She placed herself in the midst of them and felt as though she were a part of things. Then there is this moment of shattering glass where the atmosphere explodes with the pain of her realization that even in this place she cannot belong. It broke my heart because I felt as though she had to jump backwards to the start of her recovery with the knowledge that she still had not found her place of acceptance.
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