They spelled Priya wrong on my coffee cup and for a second it was the funniest, most devastating thing, a little crack in reality where everything felt…wrong. I actually laughed, and then the ringing started in my ears, the kind that comes before tears, and I just kept thinking about how even the smallest kindness can feel like a punch to the gut when you're already hollow. Maybe it's the winter, or the way the light catches the dust motes, but it feels like I'm always on the edge of something, some precipice only I can see.