“I remained standing in the doorway, and just as it had many times before, it felt like there was a thin film of plastic between me and everyone else. They seemed so comfortable in their bodies, so relaxed, so incredibly natural in their human costumes. I always found it a strain to spend time with other people, and I was deeply envious of them, of this thing they apparently weren't even aware they were doing: the ease with which they were together. But what do I know? I thought. What do I know about the costs of this? Maybe they were like gymnasts, who always seem to twist effortlessly into somersaults in the air, when in fact they have tens of thousands of hours of pain, practice, tears, and hopelessness behind them. Maybe it was like that. But I was still envious of them.”