texts: I won't tell you it'll stop feeling this bad... But I can tell you, you didn't do anything wrong... The same thing would have happened to me... or Frank... or Joe... And there's no sense in looking for a reason why things happen...  I used to try and... always came up short. I don't think the why so's important as... what we do with what we get. I remember this boy I'd see up on the Blackfeet Reservation. He was sixteen. Great kid. Strong. He'd gone swimming and dived headfirst into a rock. Snapped his neck, paralyzed him... After the accident, I'd look in on him from time to time... and he wasn't there anymore. His mind, his spirit, whatever you want to call it, it just disappeared. And what was left was nothing but anger... It's like the boy I knew just went away somewhere...
labels: I know where he goes.