Why were we never together anymore, just alone in each other's vicinity?

When someone says they heard something you did not hear, and they know you did not hear it, then you cannot tell them they did not hear what they believe they heard. They have heard their desire to hear something, and desire always speaks the loudest. It is the loudest and most confounding emotion — wanting.

I wondered why my husband couldn't have just been all bad. Why couldn't he have been a cartoon villain, someone I could have fled from and known I had made the right decision? Why must there be nice memories of him sitting beside the ugly ones, both of them oblivious, strangers on a bus?

Perhaps an honest feeling will always find a way to force itself through, an objector crying out in a crowd, hoping someone will hear.

How someone wants to explain catastrophe isn't important – that's what I know now. When shit happens, it doesn't really matter what asshole is responsible.