Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.
The right thing isn’t always real obvious. Sometimes the right thing for one person is the wrong thing for someone else. So…good luck figuring that out.
So what are you going to tell her? A little help? I pleaded. What does she want to know? He shook his head, grinning wickedly. That’s not fair. No, you not sharing what you know-now that’s not fair.
