I milked, of course, and did some work around the barn, and tried not to think about Brian, which was like trying not to breathe.

But it turns out that even if I don’t talk a lot, when it’s something that matters I still have a lot to say.

And I have to tell you, as tough as farming is, the idea of farming when you’re losing money year after year... that’s not life even, that’s like death. That’s eternal damnation.

I’d promised myself that I’d really work on talking more, talking about uncomfortable things, because I could see from Brian how well things could work out if you did.

Why was it that jam always coated me so?

I hate it when people make fun of me and it turns out they're right.

And if I didn’t, I’d spend the rest of my life wondering who I could have turned into if only I’d had the guts to try.