There's a delay of nearly an hour before a reply manifests, during which Erin is theoretically showering. Said shower is approximately ten minutes of cleaning and the remainder is spent crying but such is the way of the Wet World, ally to all living things.

I hit the first person to tell me that I was worthy of love. Directly in the face. Could have had me killed with a word and all she did was pour apple brandy and tell me she was used to it. I do not know exactly why it hurts. The Bishops who helped me before I came here said it happens a lot. That we lash out in defense of a worldview that helped us survive without love. I am tired of surviving without love. I am so very tired all the time. Somewhere on the other side of this death march is a me that can rest. The march is long and it hurts but it is worth it and one day I will look back and take pride in every step that seems so humiliating to me now. But that is the shit part. You have to make the march or you will never arrive. I cannot force you. I will not push you. But I will not treat you like you are disposable either. I have marched too far for that.