When the music is over, she keeps her head down till she finds her seat again, and I wonder how many times each day she dies a little.
Libba BrayIn school, they would tell you that life wouldnโt come to you; you had to go out and make it your own. But when it came to love, the message for girls seemed to be this: Donโt. Donโt go after what you want. Wait. Wait to be chosen, as if only in the eye of another could one truly find value. The message was confusing and infuriating. It was a shell game with no actual pea under the rapidly moving cups.
Libba Bray