I wrote Paul an email.

I poured all my hurt and confusion into it, and then promptly emailed it to my mother, so she could edit out the crazy.

I know, I know.

It's my mother.

But I needed someone who was objective, and I've been pushing too much of my Paul-pain on everyone around me.

The letter came back significantly less crazy.

So I emailed it to him.

What if it gets lost?

What if he never reads it?

What if he never replies?

Now I'm just waiting.

And I'm terrified.

But I feel good for having sent it. I asked some questions that had been burning holes in my brain and my heart. It's good to get them asked.

I'm scared of the reply, but I think it will help me, whether he tells me he misses me, or whether he tells me he never wants to talk to me again.

At least I'll get some closure.

I pray for closure.

Yes, even though I'm agnostic, I still pray. Guess it's ingrained from being raised Roman Catholic.

Ah well. Pray for me. Or hope for me. Either way.

.

Rosie.

Before&After