When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calender that showed the wrong month. I could have cried over it. I did. Where the smoke from the chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested at the edge of a table. I spent my life learning to feel less. Every day I felt less. Is that growing old? Or is it something worse? You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.
The quote reflects the profound emotional experiences of a girl whose life is intensely shaped by music and the small details of her environment. Every little observation evokes deep feelings, from a dog's loyalty to the mundane details of life, like a calendar displaying the wrong month. This highlights a sensitivity to the world that elicits both joy and sorrow, marking her existence as one filled with rich emotional complexity.
As she ages, she struggles with a diminishing capacity to feel, questioning whether this decline is simply part of growing older or something more troubling. The insight suggests that to shield oneself from sadness, one inevitably risks dulling the joy of experiencing happiness. This juxtaposition emphasizes the intricate relationship between joy and sorrow, inviting reflection on how personal growth may sometimes come at the cost of emotional richness.
