Whenever something great happens, you’re always kind of poised for the universe to correct itself.

It took a lot of work to be perfect.

It's hard to do," I said. Wes looked at me. "What is?" I swallowed, not sure why I'd said this out loud. "Get it right.

But all I could think of was how when nothing made sense and hadn't for ages, you just have to grab onto anything you feel sure of.

So it just wasn't in my house. Anywhere, I looked like I knew about the toilet.

I'd still thought that everything I thought about that night-the shame, the fear-would fade in time. But that hadn't happened. Instead, the things that I remembered, these little details, seemed to grow stronger, to the point where I could feel their weight in my chest. Nothing, however stuck with me more than the memory of stepping into that dark room and what I found there, and how the light then took that nightmare and made it real.

The mistakes you make now count. Not for everything, and not forever. But they do matter, and they shape you.