Dear Piaf,

Last week I didn't want to tell Info anything about my father because he was mine, not hers. You I didn't have the same problem with today. I didn't feel like you were trying to stick your fingers in my brain and mess around in there. You didn't feel intrusive. Trust? I hope not. That always ends badly with therapists for me. Even half-trust and quarter-trust and working trust and, heck, no trust end badly.

Thanks for the French etymology lesson. And also for telling me the short story I showed you was brilliant. It helped boost my confidence a bit after being rejected from a summer writers' workshop earlier this week.

ATAT