DEAR KRISTIN: My brother Paul passed away about a year ago. He was my best friend, my closest confidant, my hero. Whether it’s fair or unfair, I’ve held every guy I’ve ever dated to the same standards as I held my brother -- a pretty high bar.

I’ve been dating a guy I really like (who has been very supportive and comforting to me as I grieve Paul’s death, by the way), but these days, every time I look at him, I am reminded of Paul, which ends up making me either very, very sad, or very, very mad. He’s a wonderful guy, but his presence only seems to make me miss my brother more intensely. So now, I’m not only grieving, but I’m resentful, too -- a caustic combination. Any words of wisdom? GREIVING AND CONFUSED

DEAR CONFUSED: First, my deepest condolences. Losing a sibling is painful; it’s like losing a part of yourself. Give your grief the respect it deserves, Beloved. Stand in its midst and face it head-on ... but don’t let your grief get too greedy. Don’t let it distort your perspective or confuse your thinking.

Your boyfriend is not your brother, and your brother was not your boyfriend. Give each of these loved ones the respect they deserve as well -- which means loving them enough to let them exist independently of each other. Don’t meld them into one. Love your partner and love the memory of your brother with the intensity and fullness they each deserve.

Here’s the thing to remember about grief: Grief is love. Grief is born out of love; it exists because of love. So even as your heart is hurting, let this “grief is love” concept shower you with comfort. No, it is not a magical elixir that will make your sadness instantly disappear -- but it does create a connective thread between you and the person you have lost. You hurt so much because you loved so much. Let this love lead you through the darkness of grief.

You should also see a professional. A grief counselor can help you develop methods and strategies for coping with your loss. We sometimes tend to put our mental health on the back burner when we’re in the midst of grief, but this is a mistake. Since we’re on the topic of love, you must love yourself enough to get the help you need to sort through these difficult times.

And try to cut your boyfriend some slack. You say he’s trying to lift some of the burden of grief from your shoulders, but by constantly comparing him to your brother, you’re only adding to this burden he is trying to remove. Don’t do that. Don’t give your grief that much power.

So open your heart to the concept that grief and love help define each other; they are bound together. But just because they are bound together doesn’t mean they must become tangled into a painful knot. Through purposeful thinking and professional counseling, you can untangle this knot. This is where you hold the control.

And cut your boyfriend some slack.

DEAR KRISTIN: I went into the summer with all these great expectations and lofty goals. Now that summer’s over, I’m faced with the realization that I didn’t meet even one of my goals. Not one.

I keep hearing that embracing our failures is the only way to really grow. This concerns me because even though I’ve fallen short of just about every goal I’ve set and struggled through more than my fair share of summer setbacks, I still feel like precisely the same person I’ve always been. I don’t feel like I’ve evolved or grown at all, which really stinks. I don’t want to crawl into fall feeling fear and self-loathing. I want to pick myself up and step into September with renewed confidence. Maybe you can take my hand and help guide me there? -- REFUSING TO CRAWL INTO FALL

DEAR CRAWL: You’re spot-on when you talk about failure. Embracing our setbacks and missteps is a wonderful way to promote positive change in our lives -- but you missed one important caveat: As long as we don’t keep repeating those mistakes. That’s where folks often get tripped up. The only way you can learn from failure is by reflecting on it with thoughtfulness and intention, analyzing the lessons you learned from it and then, finally, taking care not to repeat those missteps moving forward. Progress, not perfection.

Also, be careful with goal-setting. You mention that you fell short of all of your summer goals, but you didn’t mention what those goals were, which is a blessing of sorts because it allows me to speak not just to you specifically but to all of my readers in a more general sense: Make sure the goals you set for yourself are realistic. Don’t set yourself up for failure.

Don’t set a goal of scaling Mt. Everest by the end of August if you still can’t walk to your mailbox without getting winded. Do the prep work that is required to meet your goal. Make a timeline for yourself. Set your intention. And then the most important part of all: Follow up that intention with action. Intention by itself is not enough; action must follow.

Consider making a list of goals for the fall. Keep it simple, keep it short and make sure the goals are attainable. If you fall short, allow yourself the necessary luxury of reflecting upon WHY you fell short. Live within the lessons you’ve learned. Then try it again.

I love that you refuse to surrender to self-loathing. I love that you still want to fly into fall, even though your wings have been clipped by the setbacks you’ve suffered this summer.

Fly on, Beloved. Fly high. But chart your course with great care and intention. And if you get blown off-course -- and we ALL get blown off-course at some point -- understand that you have the power, the choice and the inner moral compass to get yourself back on track.

Do the prep work and kick the pity parties to the curb. Life is too short for self-doubt. You’ve got this.

Now go get it.

DEAR KRISTIN: I love the woman I live with. I really do. But I have a problem: She talks all the time. All. The. Time. She talks in the movies. She talks in church. She talks while we’re watching TV. She talks while we’re hiking (“to keep the bears away,” she always says.) She even talks in her sleep. I’m just about tapped out and I’m DEFINITELY talked out. You always write about the power of quietude and silence. I’m asking you now to take me by the hand and lead us to that place. Please!

DEAR TAPPED OUT: I feel your frustration, Beloved. And my guess is that probably just about everybody who’s reading my column right now has felt this frustration at some point in their lives. The thing about “quietude” (the word you used, which I absolutely love), is that it must be intentionally created.

To quiet yourself and those around you, you must create an environment that invites and encourages such stillness of the mind. You can’t “hope” silence into being. You’ve got to get yourself there with a sense of purpose and intentionality. This kind of purposeful intention will also (if you’re lucky) send the signal to those around you that you take your silence seriously, which might help your friend modify her behavior.

Talk to her about how important it is to you to have moments of contemplation and reflection. Communicate your needs; don’t just stew over the fact that your needs are not being met. She cannot read your mind. Put simply: Talk about the important of not talking all the time.

Help her understand that silence itself is far more than the absence of noise. It is the presence of peace and growth, and our brains need this empty space as much as our bodies need food and water. On your next hike, for instance, consider suggesting that the two of you listen to the sounds of nature as you walk, rather than the sounds of your own voices.

Consistency is also important: Maybe set aside a certain time each day that’s free of sound. Don’t make it last too long, though -- at least not initially. Perhaps 10 or 20 minutes each day (or every other day). Don’t set yourself up for failure straight out of the gate; build up your silence reservoir gradually.

And if she doesn’t want to take this silence journey with you, then you must take the journey on your own. Where’s it written that couples must practice precisely the same patterns? The key is to establish your own pattern, then stick to it. If she wants to come along, fine. If not, seek your silence without her. Whatever you do, don’t give up on your quest for quietude.

Here’s a more direct way to reach her with your “please be quiet” message”: Consider printing this article out and maybe leaving it on her nightstand. Or if you’re feeling a bit bolder, tape it to the refrigerator. She’ll get the point.

You should also pat yourself on the back for recognizing the problem while you can still do something about it! I know plenty of folks who simply tune out the voices of their partners and ignore them completely -- which is the saddest sound of all.

Whatever you, do it soon. Do it before anger and impatience take over. Do it from a place of love.

Just do it.