“I hate what I am going back to.”

“I know but only about six months left there.”

“I just feel like I have run my life into the ground.”

“You can always get your life back up.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I do. I bet almost all the important things can be fixed.”

“Not all of them.”

“You don’t know that. The things worth it enough I bet can.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Then you don’t want it enough.”

“I suck.”

“You’re only mostly retarded. Want to come over and watch Forgetting Sarah Marshall with me?”

“I can’t think of a single thing I’d rather do.”

… Later:

“I miss you.”

“I know, Kid, I miss you too. We were happy together at some point, right?”


“We had a lot of bullshit going on though.”

“We were kids.”

“I still feel like a kid sometimes. I have no idea what I am doing.”

“Me neither.”

“Your boys need to step it up.” (The Red Sox were tied in the 9th.)

“I miss you like a lot.”

“I’m not all that great.”

“Yes you are” … and here’s where I fell asleep and stopped responding … “you really really are.” And then, “If you ever think of a solution, let me know.”

Lastly, his text at 5am when he was awake to catch his flight, “You have no idea how much I wish I was sleeping next to you right now.”