She thinks about him, even though she's not entirely sure who he is. She pictures them at the restaurant, dancing under the stars. She wants to tell him everything.

She had dinner with her grandfather, mother and Bob tonight. It went well;but, she drank too much wine and feels dizzy. Her mother danced with her grandfather after dinner. The dimly lit room spun, and she realized that she would never have a dance like that. Tears ran down her face in their purest form...not crying for attention, happiness or sadness...simply crying because there was nothing else to do. She hid the tears from everyone, and realized that a part of her grew up tonight. She did not draw attention to herself, and feels better because of it (though the fact that she's writing it all down suggests that she's just as self centred as ever). She wanted to call him and tell him what she was feeling but she couldn't. She'll never forget the way her mother looked like a little girl dancing with her father. She'll never have a father to dance with.

Part of her wants to email him, just to see what would happen. But it is our choices that make us human, and the humanity in her would not want to risk the havoc that emailing him might result in. She wonders if he ever thinks of the hell he put her through. She thinks of him daily, but is not haunted anymore, just accepts what happens and hopes that one day she'll be able to tell the only one that matters what happened, and hopes that he'll love her anyway.