It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make any sense!
It’s fine, it doesn’t have to!
Huh? What do you mean, of course it has to.
No. No it doesn’t. Not everything needs to make sense. Sometimes, things are just the way they are. And that’s okay.
She was quiet, on the verge of tears. I reached out.
And we left. She held my hand as we walked out of the store, leaving behind an unfinished rubix cube.