“I once heard an author describe writing as taking bits and pieces of her experiences and observations, then she questions, dissects, and analyzes them. She extrapolates from them, stretching the thought out. Then she adds from her imagination a big dose of what might have been, a good measure of what would never be, and spices it all with wishful thinking.”

“Think of a group of Extrovert Moms gathered together at a Little League game, excitedly chatting and enjoying the action. In comes Introvert Mom who, after a full day of work, wants nothing more than to savor the game—all by herself. She sits off a bit from everyone else, stretching her feet onto the bleacher bench, and may even have a book to indulge in as the team warms up. She might enjoy watching the people around her, but she has no energy to interact. What are the Extrovert Moms thinking? Because they are oriented to people, they will likely assume that Introvert Mom is, too—which means they see Introvert Mom as not liking people (what we know now as asocial) or being a “snob,” thinking she’s too good for the Extrovert Moms. More likely, Introvert Mom is not thinking about them at all! She is just doing something she likes to do.”

“Goddamnit I've never been the "pretty friend..." She's the one who wears the perfect eyeliner, it never gathers like a crowd in her tear ducts to create a grapefruit-size ebony eye booger. The one who can wear a bodysuit, sit down in it, and not have rolls of fat cascading over her belt. The one who can eat a sandwich or hamburger and not wind up with lipstick on the bun or on her chin. The one who can actually eat in front of other people and not have food, like coleslaw, hanging from her lip or shooting out of her mouth, landing on the plates of other diners. She never spits when she talks. She sleeps with her mouth shut and never drools. She doesn't pick at her face. And she never, ever has to take a shit.”

“An introvert may feel asocial when pressured to go to a party that doesn’t interest her. But for her, the event does not promise meaningful interaction. In fact, she knows that the party will leave her feeling more alone and alienated. Her social preference may be to stay home and reflect on a conversation with a friend, call that friend, and come to an understanding that is meaningful to her. Or she might indulge in the words of a favorite author, feeling a deep connection with a person she has never met. From the perspective of a partygoer, this introvert may appear to be asocial, when, in fact, the introvert is interacting in a much different way.”

“It bothered me to hear other people call her beautiful, say they loved her body. My heart would race and involuntarily my teeth began their grinding motion behind the smile I’d stretch across my face to hide my jealousy and indignation, imagining her nipple between my lips, a quick lick, the back of her neck in the palm of my hand, my mouth on hers, she kissing me with such nuance I’d never catch my breath. Who did she remind me of? On what molecular level did Jane set off that deep intracellular chime and clanging that kept me in this persistent shivery state, and ongoing electrocution?”

“Did you make the crawl of shame?"I open one eye and smirk, "What?"She pulls back the covers and plucks my t-shirt, "What is this?"I swallow and stretch and moan a little, "My…" I clear my throat, "Uhm...t-shirt."I make duck lips and watch her. She arches her eyebrow and shakes her head, pointing at my shirt and waggling her finger. "Nuh uh. No. I know all your dirty skeezy little orphan clothes and this shit isn’t yours." She bats her eyelashes blankly, "Spill bitch.”

“He lifted his gaze to the framed photograph of Tanya and him taken on their wedding day. God, she had been lovely. Her smile had come through her eyes straight from her heart. He had known unequivocally that she loved him. He believed to this day that she had died knowing that he loved her. How could she not know? He had dedicated his life to never letting her doubt it.”