Conversations with Friends

by Sally Rooney

I didn’t have the courage to really dislike her, but I knew I wanted to.

At times I thought this was the worst misery I had experienced in my life, but it was also a very shallow misery, which at any time could have been relieved completely by a word from him and transformed into idiotic happiness.

People were always wanting me to show some weakness so they could reassure me. It made them feel worthy, I knew all about that.

Suffering wouldn’t make me special, and pretending not to suffer wouldn’t make me special. Talking about it, or even writing about it, would not transform the suffering into something useful. Nothing would.