She's not coming back next year. I don't know how to deal with this information. I guess tonight was the last straw (although we both understood, she was still unsettled by Union's misconceptions and stance I suppose). How did I let myself become this attached? I wish I hadn't quit smoking. She wishes Union was more gay friendly. I wish I was somewhere far away, where my throat didn't feel so sore--a giant pebble lodged without hint of relief. I don't want to fall for her anymore. I want my eyes to stop getting red, and I convince them that it's not yet time to crack, break and leak out salty twin streams.