Maryanne loved to slam doors in my face and the months before we smiled were hard.

Days of anger passed before I asked, Maryanne, why don't you like me?

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Talking to J at the bar I told him about someone like Maryanne. The hostility does not come from me, I said.

I asked him to think of all the people he didn't like. Is it coming from you? Or is it them?

It's me, he said.