I try to numb the wave of grief this thought brings, but for the first time, I can’t. It won’t switch off. So, I try to comfort myself. Maybe, I think, I won’t have to bear it for all that long. Not everybody lives to old age.

Although I initially take solace in the thought, I soon catch myself with horror. What does it say, if the thought of staying on this path is more horrifying than the thought of my own early death?

What is wrong with me? That I can be comforted by that?

What is wrong with me, that it took me this long to realize how terrifying the thought of my predetermined path actually is?

“Let’s dance with Eleanor and Santi,” Alfie says, taking my hand.

How did we get here? How can it be that, mere months ago, I met a girl named Danni Blythe, and now I’m discussing an engagement to Alfie? I feel like a flake on a snowball.

I follow him without a word.

FORTY DANNI

There’s something I’d forgotten about what it’s like to be hated by more people than you’ve ever actually hurt. It’s this super-insidious thing where you start to expect the worst from everyone.

So, for example, if someone says they like your shoes, you start assuming they secretly mean they don’t like your shoes, and then everything goes into overdrive. If they’re saying it to make fun of you, and you say thank you, you’re playing into their trap, and boom, the whole room’s snickering. To avoid that, you get cautious and suspicious, and you give them a tight smile and maybe a nod. If they were being cruel, you keep your dignity. But the trap is, if they were giving you a genuine compliment, you come off like an asshole, and soon even the nice people start to avoid you. And the worst part is, you can’t even blame them, because you’re the one who gave them a reason not to like you in the first place.

Then you’re left with no one.

That’s how this week has felt. Like I have no one. Or almost, anyway.

Plenty of assholes have popped up like weeds, either commenting or messaging me directly, or talking about me where they assume I can’t see. Videos, essays, in the comment section of the articles discussing me.

Disgusting. I throw up in my mouth whenever I see her face.

I feel sorry for her parents, they must be dying of embarrassment.

They need to get her out of that school before she hurts the children there. Don’t they have communal bathrooms?

What is she wearing? Who told her she should leave the house like that?

I’ve always found her annoying as heck. You can tell from that smug smile she always gives she thinks she’s above everyone else.