T, it went really badly today. You broke my heart. A year ago to the day from the last time you did. Isn’t that funny? But I’m tired of having my heart broken. I really am. This is my own fault for starting to trust you and care again after what you did last year. I should have known better. I thought you were the answer after my disastrous old T. But you’re not. I can’t find a new T given my situation now. I’m way too attached to you anyway to do that. I think it’s time for me to give up on therapy. All these years I’ve believed in it since I was a teenager and hurt so badly by my FOO. All these years I thought this was the answer. So much so that while I’ve built a career and many friends on the surface, I don’t have any other life. And now I see that I’ve poured all my energy and caring into something that is nothing. I don’t know how I even begin to back away. I hope I will stay in the state where I am devastated and numb and frozen. I hope I will not start to panic. Panicking is the worst. It was pretty much the last thing I need right now, T. I don’t think I can forgive you.