You love him," he says. Not an asking, just a fact. "I do," I say. Also a fact.
I want a campfire box.
You went up a girl and came down a woman.
There ain't nothing good that don't got real bad waiting to follow it.
That's the thing I'm learning about being thrown out on yer own. Nobody does nothing for you. If you don't change it, it don't get changed.
So we forgive each other?" The crooked smile climbs up one more time. "Again?" And I look right into his eyes, right into him as far as I can see, because I want him to hear me, I want him to hear me with everything I mean and feel and say. "Always," I say to him. "Every time.