This time, for the first time, I saw the possibilities in giving up. I even found hope in it.

Those are some strong currents you're swimming against.

You don’t know what goes on in anyone’s life but your own. And when you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re not messing with just that part. Unfortunately, you can’t be that precise and selective. When you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re messing with their entire life. Everything. . . affects everything.

They were like two magnets who couldn't decide whether to attract or repel.

And everyone knows you can’t disprove a rumor.

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.

Will I ever get control of my life? Will I always be shoved back and pushed around by those I trust?