Dear G, I still need to tell you things, even though therapy has ended. I need to tell you that I miss J's hugs so much. I miss the the safety and comfort of being held tight in his arms. I miss the comfort and safety of being held in the arms of someone tall enough that I could put my head on his chest and feel his heartbeat. I miss the safety and comfort of being held in the arms of someone so gentle and old enough to be my dad. I never wanted to have a sexual relationship with him. All I wanted was to be held, because somehow being held the way he held me helped to calm my anxiety. I wish I could have told you all these things when I was in therapy, but I was too scared, and it hurt too much to admit that I still wanted hugs from the priest who so profoundly betrayed my trust. I didn't want to want those hugs anymore, but I did, and I still do, and I can't tell you now because therapy is done. And my heart is aching with all this longing.