“I guess this is what goodbye means.” “It’s okay. It’s all right. I’ll see you again. It’s not goodbye forever.” My voice shook, so I’m not sure if I was convicing, or even if I’d conviced myself, but it was all we had to go on, this idea that everything would be alright in the end, that when he crossed the bridge he’d be going someplace wonderful, or at least where he needed to be going. Who knows?
“Things are going to be good again. We’ll make them good again. You and me, okay?” “How can we make them good again? It’s over,” he said. “It’s all ruined.” He turned to face the wall, breathing heavy like he was trying not to cry, so I put my arms around him and curled my legs to fit behind his and held him until he stopped hyperventilating. When it was over, he turned to me and said, “What would I do without you, Adam?” I just shrugged. “You don’t have to worry about that. You’ll always have me.” “We’ll have each other,” he said, and we hung on to each other like that until night came, and it was safe for us to go out into the dark.