You are never going to know how much of a difference you have made in my life, because I'm too shy to tell you and I'm afraid that if I tried you wouldn't believe me.
You made me face my demons through writing them down, something I had never wanted to accept before. And I was able to move forward and not let them control me--because of you.
I'm not the girl you met two years ago, or the girl you drew out of her shell a year ago. Thanks to you, I was able to come out to my mother. She'd been coaxing me for two years and I was so angry and afraid I couldn't face it. But last October I finally told her.
In all of our lives, I have seen you for twelve days. By August it will be eighteen days, if I'm lucky. I know you wouldn't believe me if I told you how much you've meant to me, because we hardly know each other. But you really have given me so much.
A year ago you gave me a book of your poetry. A small, independent book with thirty pages and a lotus on the front. What you don't know is that I keep it in the drawer in my bedside table, and I've read it so much that it's bent and the pages are slightly darkened from all the wear.
You have a beautiful, amazing spirit. You gave my life new purpose. And I'll always remember that.
Thank you.
And I will write this down and then,
I will not be alone again--
Yeah, I was out here listening all the time.
--Dar Williams
