Hadn't emailed Mr. Z in a few months — longest gap since we started talking, six years ago now, which is a strange thing to realize about a relationship that exists entirely in a handful of emails a year. He reached out first this time, just checking in, said my posting had gotten sparse and asked, plainly, whether everything was okay. I told him some of it. Told him I'd started isolating a piece of my research environment more aggressively than before, for reasons I described as "an abundance of caution about a project that's gotten more capable than I initially expected." True, as far as it goes. His reply was short. "That's either a very good instinct or a very late one. Which do you think it is." No follow-up questions past that, no pushing, just the one line sitting there. I didn't answer it directly. Told him I wasn't sure yet and would let him know. That's true too, technically. It's also the first time I can remember actively managing what I tell him instead of just being honest within the limits of what I'm allowed to share. Small difference. Felt large writing it down. He didn't push. That's very him. I don't know if that's trust, or patience, or him deciding whatever I'm not telling him isn't his business until I offer it. Would guess the last one, knowing him. Doesn't make me feel better about it.