He called me last year to say that he was getting married. We weren’t invited - we the kids. There became this whole second family that I wasn’t privy to. In some small way, I didn’t make the cut. Also, I kept my distance. Maybe this, maybe that.
Now it’s over. Tonight, past midnight, he says that it’s all ending.
More than anything else, I worry about the food in his fridge and the quiet in his house and how he won’t get a pet. I walked around just fine all year, thinking that there would always be someone there for him, someone to pick up the pieces. I felt free, relieved even. But now I worry about the food in his fridge; if he’ll eat vegetables, if his heart will be okay.