I find myself staring outside your window, the one behind you. I vaguely remember a desk to my left and next to that a tall black bookshelf. I know that there is a chair next to me, identical to the chair that I am sitting in right now; as I stare out that window. A squirrel runs across the dark pavement and into the safety of a few bushes. Then I remember that I haven’t said anything for a few minutes, I’ve just been staring. I clear my throat and turn my eyes back to you. You are in a multicolored top, I notice that the sweater you are wearing is buttoned only once, at the top, and it’s a purple sweater. The word “Um...” makes its way out of my mouth and I pick my brain for something, anything to tell you; you and your awaiting ears. I look into your calm blue eyes; they look into mine curious, waiting. Finally I tell you, I cough up the words that I’ve been holding in for so long. You nod and tell me you understand, but do you? I wonder how you could possibly understand, especially because I feel far away, maybe because you’re on the opposite side of the desk, your desk, inside your new office. I look for a clock; I wonder how long I’ve been here. Instead I find a white board, the white board that is above the desk, the desk that is next to the black bookshelf, and once again I’m staring out that window. Again I’m staring out that window, the one that is behind you, as you look at me with your blue eyes that are so understanding. You sit there waiting, until I find the courage to tell you more.