SAME. EXACT. THING.
I have a quote from Measure for Measure that floats in and out:
Our doubts are traitors,
and make us lose the good we oft might win,
by fearing to attempt.
Small comfort. It's crushing, and feels like preemptive grief which then I feel stupid about then feel horrible about feeling stupid... Is it because the expected experience is so different from what we know? It cracks the world. I feel like if I could be there, in the room, to see her face, to know its okay, it would make more sense. But I can't make that leap of imagination.