I can't do this. I feel sick. Less than 24 hours until I have to see you. I have to see you. I have to face whatever this is. I want to run. I want to just dump it all and run, as far as possible. I can't go through this.

Please don't do this to me. Just one hour a week. Please. I'll be good. I promise.

Who's words are those, I wonder?

They aren't from Little One. I feel her, you know. I feel her inside me, calm. She's ok. She's ok with this. She's been ready for a while now, to let go. I think, in some ways, she already did let go. There's a slight sadness there. Bittersweet, you once said. Sorry to go, but ready. I've got her now. I'm holding her hand and together we are ok. God, I can't explain how much that means to me, T. That you helped me to do that.

And then there is this other part which is absolutely screaming inside me. Writhing in gut wrenching pain at the thought of you walking away. This part that would do anything to make you change your mind. This part that has no idea how to go on with life if you say that you won't still be there. This part who has just started to trust you enough to let you see, just started to believe that it might be safe to open up.

And then there is me. Me who knows that now I am on this journey, I have to finish it. Me who knows that now old wounds have been exposed I have to heal them properly. Me who has learnt and grown so much over the last five years. Me who has turned up week after week after week after week, working harder than I ever thought I would have to, both in the room and at home in my own time. Me who has spent the best part of £10,000 trying to repair the damage of my past.

Me who will be desperately sad to say goodbye to you because of everything that you have done for us, everything that you have been to us, everything that you have helped us to learn, discover and become.

But also me who isn't ready to leave without a fight. Please, again, I am begging you to reconsider. Please help me to get to that 'ready' place with Teenage One. Please stay and help her to have the same experience as Little One has had.

Don't do this. Don't walk away. Not yet.