I am an adult, but a damaged one.

I feel like he's taking advantage of me. Advantage of my illness. He thinks he can rewrite history in any way that he likes and I will never know, never be any the wiser. But I do know. I know exactly what he's doing. And so I don’t trust him. In the end he is pushing me away, Dr. Nash. Ruining everything.

I cannot imagine how I will cope when I discover that my life is behind me, has already happened, and I have nothing to show for it. No treasure house of collection, no wealth of experience, no accumulated wisdom to pass on. What are we, if not an accumulation of our memories?

And then, when there is nothing else between us but love, we can begin to find a way to truly be together.

I am an adult, but a damaged one.

Work. Write. Read. Keep putting words on the page, because that's the only way you'll get better.

I wish I hadn't. I wish I'd fought for you. I was weak and stupid.