I can't believe I've been rambling on in this journal and in therapy for a year now!  I wonder how long I'm supposed to be in therapy.  Is a year too long?  Should I be cured by now?  How would I even know if I'm cured--I'm not sure what I'm trying to cure.  My therapist was away all last week, and it got me thinking that I don't really need to be seeing her.  I mean I was fine last week, and I can talk to Ricky and my friends.  I don't know--I did kind of miss her, which is pretty weird, since I don't even know the first thing about her.  I don't think I could tell her I don't need her anymore.  She probably wouldn't let me go--which makes me feel kind of trapped.  Or maybe she would let me go but not come back if I needed to--that's a scary thought too.  Maybe she'd tell me I was too fucked up to go.  Or maybe she'd tell me it would be a relief to have me go.  No, I don't think she'd do that.  I wonder if she needs me to pay her, or if she gets plenty of money from other clients.  I wonder how many other clients she has.  I wonder if she's the same with them as she is with me.  I wonder if she tells them more about her personal life.  Do I want her to tell me about her personal life?  Maybe she doesn't think I'm old enough to handle it--maybe she just tells clients her own age.  I wonder if she thinks of me as like a daughter, or what.  Maybe a little sister?  Wow, I had no idea I had all these questions!  I wonder if I will ever ask her them.