She asked me if I was lonely, if the only reason I said mean things was that I'd heard mean things at one time or another, and in order to cope with my misunderstanding of human nature and cruelty, I just repeated those sins like carbon paper, like a parrot.
She asked me if it was intentional, if I let people trust me with their secrets because I knew that I'd only have to prove them wrong once, and they'd forever leave me alone.
She asked me if I was embarrassed of the person that nobody without the necessary experience would ever see me hiding beneath the unkind words and the distrust, if there was any part of me that just wanted to go home and go to sleep, and wake up the next day beside somebody who would already know the answer to all of these questions.
I said no. And that she watches too many talk shows.