Last night, I broke the news to Zack. I suppose I've been hinting at it all along. The more you get to know somebody, the more you can tell them your secrets. However, this happened really too soon for comfort.

I was sure he would reject me... But not admit it to me. I came out of it thinking... He cares, he wants to help me. It's best if I believe that way. When people say that I'm good for them, when they lavish me with compliments, I don't generally take it very well. I told him, I'll try to accept that compliment, but could you tell me it again some time?

Last night, I had a dream that I had an indoor house. It had a greenhouse roof, and posts holding it up. There were swings outside, and inside were millions of plants that had begun to grow back for the spring. I said I didn't particularly like the dirt floor, or the very-busy raised anthill in the center of one of the rooms. It had doors, and to lock it was sort of a joke, but it was done anyway. It was screened in. Such a nice little garden. You might think it would be uncomfortable to have such an open home, but it was very comfortable.

I just kept thinking to myself, I am on a hill overlooking the ocean. I am almost at the top of the ridge, just go out the door and go up toward the other houses to get there. What will I do when the storms come? The clouds were ominous, as they say. However, it did not quite yet threaten my house.

The house had couches and things, but they were always situated within a room full of plants, grazing your legs without so much as an itch or a scratch. My mother had given me a blooming, soft lavender plant, and I had a circular tray of herbs on my table.

Here I was, at home in nature. Indeed, I was a nature girl. Mother nature was on my side, though when she rained, I knew she would wash away mud through my home, cleaning my plants. I thought about removing the anthill. The storm approached as I slowly awoke from my dream, out of the peaceful garden, and into my room, which with no plants and limited sunshine, felt less like home than my dream.

Back to my thoughts about Zack... He asked me how he could help. He asked me what was wrong. I said that I am broken. He said what does that even mean? I said I tried to kill myself over grades. He said just because of grades? ...Of course not just because of grades, silly.

I began to recount for him a tiny, yet relevant portion of my problems at the time. He said Hmmm. I said it sounds like you're trying to find a solution... As if there were a solution one could come to right away. I told him I don't think that I'm unfixable... Please don't give up on me. I told him I'd try to look for a solution, yet again, and I would get back to him tonight. So here I am, yet again searching for a solution.

By Christmas, my hair will have completely grown out.