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Summary
The worst part was going to sleep. To spool himself out in his shitty bed and see him laying there with him. Eyes glittering in the dark saying every night the same thing.
“You’re doing good. Keep going. I’m ok. I’m ok. Everything is OK.”
Liar.
Hundreds of miles away and no way to change that. Helpless and alone. Broke, hungry. Guilty as hell for every envelope he gets in the mail. But he keeps going just the same. Not because he needed the encouragement but because he was going to anyway.
Even without the money to help.
