I talked to you about what I planned to talked to you about and I'm really glad.

You said the most “compassionate, accurate” way you could understand it is that we were both fumbling in the dark, and doing the best we could. I agree with that. That is true. (Although, now, I need to know why I manage to throw off even you, with all your years of experience, and I can't let you wiggle out of that one by convincing me it wasn't my fault. Why am I so challenging?r) You used the slow, gentle voice that you use when you really, really want me to listen to you, and you said, “What you said was beautiful and now you are going-- you always go-- to this place where everything is your fault.” (Or something like that, I can’t remember very clearly now.)

Now it's Sunday and I'm feeling really lonely, and sad about leaving for grad school next year. I will miss you so much. I know I'm ready...I can go now. But it's still going to hurt and be scary.

I hope I can keep working so hard this year, and not freeze.