Back to thoughts of honesty and how much to share again. I like honesty-almost as much as I like knowing that I haven't shared too much.
Wednesday, as I wrote last, I was contemplating the potential in moving beyond the counseling I have relied on for the past few years. The idea of stepping out into the sun without feeling the need to turn to someone for the kind of support and encouragement (not to mention the ability to see things far more clearly than I can some days coupled with skill and knowledge that a professional has) has its positive aspects. I've been focusing on those. And, I still see all of that as true. In the light of day, I *know* that I'm going to be fine.
Yet, as I sat down and we began to work on wrapping things up and Rachel pressed me to discuss my feelings about this abrupt change, I just found myself weeping. Not sobbing or attempting to reason away the transition, just quietly weeping over this loss. Because, that's the only way I can describe it-it's a subtraction from my life, a loss of someone that has figured importantly in my support system. Even now, I find myself tearing up slightly over these thoughts. And, those who know me well know that tears are rare for me. Simply put, this is difficult. I've dealt with greater losses (if we're assigning a valuation to the place someone holds in one's life, I guess) with the same strength I'll be bringing to this and, to risk redundancy, I truly will be fine. But, to be wholly honest, I'm sad over this and am aware of the hole this will leave in my life.