Dear T,
I don't know how I'm going to act tomorrow. A part of me wants to pout and give you the silent treatment. Part of me wants to yell at you and swear and tell you off. Part of me wants to love you and pretend like nothing happened. And part of me wants to be mature and talk it out and fix things. I don't know what I'll be able to do tomorrow, or what I'll feel like doing, but I hope that whatever happens, things end up okay.