I was all set to post an entry about how I was ready to start dating again. I spent over a week writing it—reviewing photos, emails, texts, and Instagram posts—and reflecting on what I had learned this year and how I would do things differently. And then I overheard two women at a cafe talking about their relationships and how one was indifferent to what her man felt and was looking forward to dating other people.

Maybe I am not ready after all. I have so many books I could read instead. Ah, good, safe, reliable books. They might not love me back, but at least they won’t make me cry—well, except Bridge to Terabithia.