I’m sorry.” Once again, those were the words. And now, anytime someone says I’m sorry, I’m going to think of her.

What you don't understand, you can make mean anything.

But sometimes there’s nothing left to do but move on.

Josh turns to me. “I can’t believe she’s writing these things.” “Not she,” I say. “Me.” “Why would anyone say this stuff about themselves on the Internet? It’s crazy!” “Exactly,” I say. “I’m going to be mentally ill in fifteen years, and that’s why my husband doesn’t want to be around me.

It's up to the reader to decipher the code, or the words, based on everything they know about life and emotions.

I’m sorry.” Once again, those were the words. And now, anytime someone says I’m sorry, I’m going to think of her.

And everyone knows you can’t disprove a rumor.