“Men always complained I had a lot of boyfriends. I never agreed, or disagreed. I was too busy kissing to care. I disapproved of jealous complainers and had not an opinion on their opinion of me.”

“I want to read, write, and nothing else. I do not want to get married, I do not want to go to church, I do not want to file taxes; I do not want to eat. But Grandma disagrees, and Grandma always wins.”

“....finally I see that it’s never been me, just a blanket that keeps you warm. Easily tossed alongwhen something flashier or someone prettier comes along. Your heart I held so carefully, I see, this was all just a game...”

“If I had no imagination, I would hate you. But I don’t want to be part of your reality.”

“What had I done? Where was my fun? I wanted play, I wanted sun, he was the opposite —I called him Zum because he’s an un-fun, the sort of mean-fun bully on the playground-fun. Mean Mr. Zum.This was madness, this was badness this was sadness this was too much un-fun-ness.”

“...I feel like a traitor, a phony, a fake. But I am a hypocrite with the best intentions, and I need kissing desperately.”

“I’m tired of wanting to respond but never knowing what face you’ll be wearing, not knowing what mean or nice words you’ll be saying, so I stay silent knowing I can’t take another round of your uncontrolled verbs, your misinterpretations of my world. So many men? Yes, I have so many men, didn’t know that this text-fighting, me on the other side crying was exclusive to just us two.”