I am a teacher.
Somewhere between the age of twenty two and thirty I gained enough knowledge to be considered wise enough to pass on my findings to others. I became a confident, inspirational woman that my students adore. Joseph has collected cards and gifts that have been sent to wish me well in my recovery.
My recovery... while my bones heal and my bruises fade I still am filled with this overwhelming blackness. Being in the house, even for these a few days, has provided me with very little insight and there has been a significant lack of memories which I hoped would come flooding back in familiar surroundings.
Tomorrow Joseph has suggest that we spend the day together, he has set some time aside for us to finally talk. I get the distinct impression that talking nor time is something we usually spend doing together.
He is still a stranger and even though I do not know him I find that I want to.
Can he teach me of myself?
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