Today I hit one of those milestone things. It wasn’t a huge thing. Not really. Not to other people, maybe. But it was something to me. And I rushed to share it with you. Because you had been there with me through the thick and the thin of it, hadn’t you? Ready with a word of encouragement when my confidence waned and a gentle admonishment when it collapsed altogether. You told me I could do it when I fervently doubted that I could. And today, today I did it and I was full to the brim with it! And you would be the one to understand the enormity of this thing, to catch it as it spilled out from me in a swell of unaccustomed pride. And, oh, you said the right things. You did. The words were there, but that was all. No buzz, no bubbling, no swell of shared pride and joy. I withered, like early blossom in a late, unexpected frost, and in that instant something precious died.