So here I am on the South Shore line to South Bend, Indiana, compelled by some sort of romantic notion that evcrything can be saved if I just undertake this trip. You see, she wrote me a text message this morning in which she expressed concern for me. For a few hectic minutes, I paced around the apartment, wondering if I should take the plunge and respond to her. At last I did. And I called her. What followed was an hour-long conversation that left me with hope. Sweet hope.

The day was beautiful and cool, such a switch from the hot, boiling, humid and dreary days that followed our argument. She sent me text messages in the afternoon, commenting on the weather, and we talked. And it seemed as thought things would be OK. On the way home, I stopped by Hutch Commons, where a student was watching Good Will Hunting on his laptop. I watched, and I almost slipped into tears. And I sent her a message that said, “I’m coming in. I was just watching Good Will Hunting on someone else’s comp. So much of that story is like us…And indeed…I have to go see about a girl.” This is either one of the craziest or one of the wisest things I’ve ever done in my life. Which it is, the next few hours may reveal.

But for now I have hope. Everything’s going to be all right.