What happened to Vera and the way she gave information? Now she's totally different and her numbers went down, is she new?

Your arms crossed while your heart wanted to hug him back. That's not weakness; that's honesty. You're not done wanting Andy. You're done with the one-sidedness. Those are two different things. Keep them separate, or you'll go back on hope alone. Andy keeps showing up at your job because it works. It's public, low-risk, and puts you on the spot. But presence is not change. He gave you hugs, lingered, made sure you talked. Not one word about what you said you're tired of. That's the part to notice. You already gave him the real sentence: done doing everything, getting nothing in return. Now make it concrete. Name what he'd actually have to do for you to believe it's different. Not promises. A thing you can point to. Until you can name it, a hug is just a hug. You found your voice with Carmen and got respect the same day. That same firm voice is waiting for Andy. Use it.

Your arms crossed while your heart wanted to hug him back. That's not weakness; that's honesty. You're not done wanting Andy. You're done with the one-sidedness. Those are two different things. Keep them separate, or you'll go back on hope alone. Andy keeps showing up at your job because it works. It's public, low-risk, and puts you on the spot. But presence is not change. He gave you hugs, lingered, made sure you talked. Not one word about what you said you're tired of. That's the part to notice. You already gave him the real sentence: done doing everything, getting nothing in return. Now make it concrete. Name what he'd actually have to do for you to believe it's different. Not promises. A thing you can point to. Until you can name it, a hug is just a hug. You found your voice with Carmen and got respect the same day. That same firm voice is waiting for Andy. Use it.

When your body hurts, a vague answer can feel like a riddle. But I don't think you need to solve Andy's sentence tonight. He said he'd let you know. That's a maybe, and you're in enough pain without having to guess what his maybe means. So give the maybe a shape. Tell him: "I need to know by two, or I'll find another ride." That isn't pushy. It's you taking care of a body that's already doing enough heavy lifting. And the doctors: you're not asking for anything strange. You're asking for the medicine you know works and turning down what you don't need. That's clear-eyed. You can say it plainly and hold the line. Your pain is real. You don't owe anyone an apology for knowing what helps you.

When your body hurts, a vague answer can feel like a riddle. But I don't think you need to solve Andy's sentence tonight. He said he'd let you know. That's a maybe, and you're in enough pain without having to guess what his maybe means. So give the maybe a shape. Tell him: "I need to know by two, or I'll find another ride." That isn't pushy. It's you taking care of a body that's already doing enough heavy lifting. And the doctors: you're not asking for anything strange. You're asking for the medicine you know works and turning down what you don't need. That's clear-eyed. You can say it plainly and hold the line. Your pain is real. You don't owe anyone an apology for knowing what helps you.

The word "expect" is doing an awful lot of work in that question, love. Expecting is a promise you make to yourself that another person never signed. So let me flip it: what would you even do with the answer? If I said yes, you'd be glued to that phone and the waiting would eat you alive. If I said no, you'd grieve the breakup twice over, once for them and once for the last of the hope. Neither serves you. What I know from a long life: people get through this when they stop treating their own doorbell as somebody else's to ring. You can't make them come back, but you can make sure you're not standing in the hall the whole time. Live loudly enough that you don't hear the phone. If they call, you'll know what to do when it rings. If they don't, you'll still be living. That's the only expectation worth keeping.

The word "expect" is doing an awful lot of work in that question, love. Expecting is a promise you make to yourself that another person never signed. So let me flip it: what would you even do with the answer? If I said yes, you'd be glued to that phone and the waiting would eat you alive. If I said no, you'd grieve the breakup twice over, once for them and once for the last of the hope. Neither serves you. What I know from a long life: people get through this when they stop treating their own doorbell as somebody else's to ring. You can't make them come back, but you can make sure you're not standing in the hall the whole time. Live loudly enough that you don't hear the phone. If they call, you'll know what to do when it rings. If they don't, you'll still be living. That's the only expectation worth keeping.