583495793235

HALF LIFE
IT’S A STRANGE thing to realize that you’re willing to die. It doesn’t come in a flash, a
sudden epiphany. It happens slowly, a balloon leak in reverse.
The sight of Olly crying alone on his porch will not leave me.
I pore over the pictures that he sent from school. I make myself a place in every single
one. Maddy in the library. Maddy standing next to Olly’s locker waiting to go to class.
Maddy as Girl Most Likely To.
I memorize every inch of my family photo, trying to divine its secrets. I marvel at the
not-sick Maddy, baby Maddy, her life stretching before her with endless possibility.
Ever since Olly came into my life there’ve been two Maddys: the one who lives through
books and doesn’t want to die, and the one who lives and suspects that death will be a
small price to pay for it. The first Maddy is surprised at the direction of her thoughts. The
second Maddy, the one from the Hawaii photograph? She’s like a god—impervious to
cold, famine, disease, natural and man-made disasters. She’s impervious to heartbreak.
The second Maddy knows that this pale half life is not really living.