"We drank the water in the parking lot and it seemed to be drawn from the deepest, purest crack in the world. I drank and drank and when I could drink no more I just held my mouth open and let the water pour over my lips and chin and dress, the whole while smiling at him while he smiled at me. When the bottle was empty I daintily put the cap back on. He took it and threw it in the recycling for me. A different kind of person would have commented on what just happened, made a joke or offered to get me napkins. By not doing any of these things, he was complicit, inside the performance with me. But it wasn't a performance, was it? No, nothing I did ever was. It was only ever the truth of the moment, coming out freely and expecting to be understood, not made much of, just taken seriously like any honest speech. It was dumb, but anything smarter would miss the point. I was speaking now to all my friends and family: You have all missed the point of me" 

- page 69, All Fours by Miranda July