Love that in a lot of classic literature people just “randomly” fall ill but bro their homes were stacked to the roof with arsenic and asbestos and lead and radium of course they were sick all the time.
i am not broken. i am human. and sometimes my pain is visible, through bruises and scrapes and scars. and sometimes my pain is hidden, carried deep within my heart. there is a smile on my face and sadness inside. but that does not mean i am broken. i am simply alive.