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9:12 AM
I am walking to therapy alone this morning because Davis has stopped going. Everyone agrees that he seems much better. He's not so angry all the time, and I'd like to think that I contributed to his lack of aggression and decreased apathy. I held his hand and laughed at his jokes, even when they weren't funny, and I always remembered his favorite day of the week was Tuesday because his mother was never home and I held his face when we cried together. But sometimes, it's hard to tell whether or not I have an impact on him, or whether or not I ever did.
Sometimes he holds my hand too tightly and sometimes he kisses my cheek so genuinely that I think all the caterpillars in the world immediately turn into butterflies because there isn't enough room in my stomach to hold them all. Sometimes he tells me that he's in love with me and sometimes he means it.
