
I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me that I had a chameleon soul—no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality—just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide as wavering as the ocean. And if I said that I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying, because I was born to be the other woman. Who belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone, who had nothing, who wanted everything. Who are you? Are you in touch with all your darkest fantasies? Have you created a life for yourself where you’re free to experience them? I have. I am fucking crazy. But I am free.