The Health Of The People I Love

Really? Screaming?” He Shrugged. “it Wasn’t That Bad. But There Were Definitely Some Freak-outs On Both Sides. Though, To Be Honest, The Silence Was Worse.” “worse Than Screaming?” I Said. “much,” He Said, Nodding. “i Mean, At Least With An Argument, You Know What’s Happening. Or Have Some Idea. Silence Is… It Could Be Anything. It’s Just –” “so Freaking Loud,” I Finished For Him. He Pointed At Me. “exactly.

At Every Wedding Someone Stays Home.

He's Getting Dumped. And He Doesn't Even Know It Yet. He's Probably Eating A Cheeseburger Or Flossing Or Picking Up His Dry Cleaning, And He Has No Idea. No Inkling.

"i Just Don't Know," I Said, My Voice Sounding Bumby, Not Like Mine, "how Do You Help Someone Who Doesn't Want Your Help. What Do You Do When You Can't Do Anything?"

Home Wasn't A Set House, Or A Single Town On A Map. It Was Wherever The People Who Loved You Were, Whenever You Were Together.