I was not okay for a long time. I had thought — because I had rehearsed it so many times in my head — that after I said what I said, I would feel lighter. I did not. I felt, for about three months, hollow. I had carried those four paragraphs around in my wallet for six months because I had known that reading them would end three friendships, and I had not wanted to end the friendships, I had wanted the friends to be better. I had wanted Jake to have never said what he said to my wife. I had wanted

Derek to pay me back. I had wanted Sam to have kept his word. I had wanted, as the song says, different things than the things. Jake did apologize to my wife, six weeks later, in a letter that she read once and did not respond to. Derek Venmoed me the three thousand five hundred dollars at 11:30 that same Saturday night. I did not respond, but I cashed it. Sam sent me a long text in January. He said he had been in therapy. He said he understood now. He said he was not asking for anything. I replied with two words. I said, "Thank you."