RoboT,

I can't remember what I was searching for on my phone this morning. Whatever it was started with the first letter of your name (which is T, haha). So my phone recommended your website based on past searches. There would have been a point where I would have felt...something. Whether the feeling would have been longing or anger would have depended on the day and my mood. Now? I just acknowledged that you still exist and went back to what I was doing. Which is pretty remarkable, given that it's Saturday.

So I guess this is what moving on feels like. I don't hate you anymore. I don't love you anymore either. You just are. In the 11 months that we worked together, I learned more about myself than I ever thought possible. I didn't always agree with where you led me, and I don't know that I was prepared for where the work took me. I will say, however, that I'm working on my issues now with the diligence and urgency that I haven't been able to before. The work that we did made me realize how messed up I am. I don't mean that in a bad way at all. I just know that for me to lead the life I want, I need to develop some skills I don't currently have.

Frankly? I couldn't have done the work I need to do more with you. So while I moaned at great length about how I wish we could have taken the full journey together, I realize now that your "retirement" was a huge blessing. I don't know that I would have had the strength to leave without a looming deadline. I seemed to ruffle your feathers a little when I talked about my faith, but I believe God brought you into my life at the perfect time, and had you leave it at the perfect time.

I don't know that I'll ever fully understand the nuances or intricacies of the relationship that we developed in our work together, and that's okay. I see it now so differently. It wasn't perfect, but it was good: therapeutic.

I hope you are doing well. I hope the next season of your life brings you great happiness. While anything is possible, I foresee this being the last time I "write" to you.

Farewell,
Daisy

ETA: Part of me actually wants to send this to him (with a few minor adjustments). Someone should talk me out of this.