There was a teacher in my school who came back to school after the holidays as a Miss from a Mrs. There was alot of talk amongst the students, whether she went through a divorce, or whether she simply decided to be a Ms. We were young and naive, no one bothered to find out whether it was possible for a Mrs to become a Ms again without divorce, but despite it all, I was certain, very certain, that she had gone through something painful, because of the look of loss and emptiness I saw in her eyes, a look so familiar I memorised the lines under the eyes, and the shape of the pupils by heart.

It scared me, and by then, I knew there was something wrong with me.