“You saw how good it was tonight?” she asks as she cries, and I tell her that, yes. I did, and for the first time it occurs to me how bad it must have got to make her leave something that meant that much to her, that made so many people happy.
Her cheeks are black with wet eye-make-up and it’s smearing on the sheets and the pillow as she sobs and I hold her tight, and try with all my might to understand.
Because at one time, that was how I felt. And no, not towards the Dresden Dolls.