Conversations with Friends

by Sally Rooney

It was almost June now, but in April the blossoms were bright and silky like confetti.

A light, cool rain feathered the umbrella and I tried to think of something interesting to say about the weather.

A light, cool rain feathered the umbrella and I tried to think of something interesting to say about the weather.

Things matter to me more than they do to normal people, I thought. I need to relax and let things go. I should experiment with drugs. These thoughts were not unusual for me.

I said hello, though what I meant was: I hope you haven’t found out about me sleeping with your husband.

The sunlight was inordinately bright. I closed my eyes and let strange patterns form behind my eyelids. The heat poured down over my hair and little insects purred in the undergrowth. I could smell the laundered scent of Nick’s clothing, and the orange-oil shower gel I had used when I stayed in his house.

His drunkenness made me feel unclean. I wanted to shower or eat a fresh piece of fruit.

Bobbi thinks depression is a humane response to the conditions of late capitalism.

The mist was gray like a veil. I fantasized about punching myself in the stomach.

I liked that he was busy driving because it meant we could talk without the intensity of having to acknowledge each other.

Anyway he seems like he’s embarrassed to be alive.

My mother hated the way I talked about my father, like he was just another normal person rather than my distinguished personal benefactor, or a minor celebrity.

Was “kindness” just another term for submission in the face of conflict?

It was more that Nick’s sympathy seemed unconditional, like he rooted for me regardless of how I acted, whereas Bobbi had strong principles that she applied to everyone, me included. I didn’t fear Nick’s bad judgement like I did Bobbi’s.

I followed this pattern of thought superficially, like letting my eyes follow the trajectory of a passing car.

You live through certain things before you understand them. You can’t always take the analytical position.