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May 26, 2001

I tell him what's going on in the morning. "I'm so sorry," he says, with a concerned look.  And then he smiles at me.  No, no, you're not supposed to smile.  And I start babbling that I don't know what I'm gonna do without her, and he kisses me mid babble.  "You still have me."  And I just look at him.  But without her, I won't have anyone to talk to about you.  Without her, it's just gonna be you and me.  And the quiet.  And I will go insane.  I know I will.  Of course I will.  I'm not smart enough to figure out what I'm supposed to do with you on my own.  I'm in the thick of it, I'm buffeted back and forth by I love you, I hate you winds.  Only somebody outside of us, somebody with perspective, somebody who knows me, somebody like ASHLEY, damn it, can observe our daily psychodramas and offer sage if somewhat cynical advice.  You still have me.  I know that's what I have.  It's not enough.