Nothing in The Rules was news, exactly: the eternal defeat of non-lame women, the worthlessness of their “honesty,” the way they so often ended up marrying lame guys whom they had initially rejected as tedious. It wasn’t that I hadn’t known these things, but that at some point, without realizing it, I had persuaded myself that I was different—that my honesty and non-lameness wouldn’t be punished like that, because I had some special skill, some self-sufficiency, an ability to be alone. I always had been alone, when every other person in my family had insisted on having someone around to have
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