I put frozen spoons on my eyes. It was a good kind of pain.

I've moved away from the "there is something horribly wrong with me" theory. I have a new one: there is something really important missing. I don't even know what shape the piece would be or what color it is or where it goes to begin looking for it.

And how many times in my life are you going to say, "Sarah Jo, this is not going to end well. Be careful. Just take a step back. Pay attention. Wait a minute. Slow down. You're going to get hurt." And then I merrily ignore you and it all comes true? And you never say, "I TOLD you this was going to happen." It's more like, "I'm so sorry, Sarah Jo. This is what you need to do to make it feel better. This is how long its going to take to heal. This is how you make sure you don't do this again."

I don't know what magic there is that after 11 years now you are still here. That we are completely different people than we were when we met and still we love each other.

I am thoroughly convinced that most people I know don't ever actually see me as a real, live human being with feelings and bad days and character flaws and needs. They don't see it when I'm not okay and they don't know what to do when they do see it. But you see. Since that very first phone call you've driven right past the bubbly outside to the real person underneath. Sometimes it's uncomfortable and frustrating that I can't just gloss over my feelings and move on when talking you to. You won't let me. But you're teaching me that ignoring all the bad things won't make them go away. And pretending I'm not hurt won't make it true. And I'm truly, truly grateful for you.