The kind bartender asks me if I need anything else, the same thing that happens to me every week at every bar, but on this night her question feels extra-caring, because I am sad. I say no. I feel the strong need to get back into bed.

I will leave you with something from Letters that I have posted on my wall: "Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love."

I am almost out of this wreck. I can sense it. The sadness doesn't scare me so much. I can see the other side.

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