““Hey you,” I say. “You okay? Everything in one piece in there?” He smiles tightly. “I have a good life. I’m in therapy, probably always will be. Which I think is a good thing. It’s like I said earlier. You make your head a hospitable place to be, you might never want to leave it. But if you’re trapped in there, you’re doomed. I decided a long time ago that surviving probably meant achieving something in the middle. Something I could live with, that made me content. So, you know.” His body relaxes. He is done. Turns to me with a slight smile. “Ongoing.””
