On the couch. Why do I find it so hard to be happy? She suggests that pain is more familiar to me, that I gravitate towards it. We talk about the ‘desert’ in me, how V had reached it, no longer found what he wanted and needed, and turned away to another woman: how this was my part in what happened; and how I’m learning that there is a spring of water, if I can just find it in myself. Walking away from her house, I find I don’t remember which of us put these things into words.