“I knew I was struggling, but I didn’t realize how bad it was until I tried to paint the other day. The colors were all wrong—muted, somehow, like life has been. But I don’t think the sadness is the same as before. It feels kind of like the last throes of a storm. I’m so close to being out of the rain, but I’m also so used to it that I’m kind of scared I’ve forgotten how to be dry. You know?”