Scene: in my car, driving home from a party. We've been drinking. Oh, and by "we", I mean the Best Friend. Or whatever he is in that car.
"So you're just going to give up?" Is mostly what he's saying. And mostly what I'm saying is, "I don't know."
Three cigarettes later, I do know. And the answer, like always, is no.
"I'm back," I say, and he lays his head on my shoulder. Always the optimist, like this time could be different. Like he's different. Like I'm different.