When Ana cries, she can't stop.
The tears come and keep coming - flowing not from her eyes, but from somewhere you can't see. Somewhere deeper, a font of sadness in her middle.
If you asked her why, she might say (as soon as her sobs had quieted to halting breaths):
I don't know why I'm crying. I don't know why. I feel empty, hollow, hollowed out - like there's a pit in my gut where I'm missing something. Something. An absence, a lack.
A lack of what?
I don't know. I just feel open inside, where I shouldn't, where something should be.
That fortune, again?
Yeah, maybe. I just didn't imagine that I would feel so...disconnected from who I was and disappointed in who I have become. At this age. Not that I’m a bad person, I’m not. I just expected more.
Who doesn’t?
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