“Really. I’m sorry.” “No, really. It was okay.” So, he said “thanks” and hugged me again.
And moved in to kiss me again. And I just let him. I don’t know why.
We stayed in his car for a long time.
We didn’t do anything other than kiss. And we didn’t even do that for very long.
After a while, his eyes lost the glazy numb look from the wine or the coffee or the fact that he had stayed up the night before.
Then, he started crying. Then, he started talking about Brad.
And I just let him. Because that’s what friends are for.
Love always, Charlie
May 17, 1992
Dear friend, It seems like every morning since that first night, I wake up dull, and my head hurts, and I can’t breathe.
Patrick and I have been spending a lot of time together. We drink a lot.
Actually, it’s more like Patrick drinks, and I sip. It’s just hard to see a friend hurt this much.
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