After the longest absence, there you are, Jack. I see you on my door step as I am leaving for work. Your hair is slicked back and your eyes are bright. You look good, and I tell you this smiling. You look well, Jack. You look like you’ve really been doing well. You tell me that things have been better where you are now, but you came because you had this nagging feeling that something wasn’t alright. You tell me that you searched under your bed and checked every morning if you had forgotten something at home, and eventually realized that it was nothing like that. So you’re here to see me.

We talk for a while on the front steps until I tell you that I’m going to miss my bus. A strand comes loose from the rest of your combed back hair. You ask if you can come around again soon. You ask which boy it is this time. I look at you perplexed until I realize that I’m only acting confused. You always know before I do. I sigh and let all of my defiance collapse into the center of my stomach. I tell you that it isn’t a boy at all — it’s a man. I don’t know where to start with this story, but I’ve never known how to start with any of them. I begin by saying that he’s tall.

“He’s taller than you, Jack.”

“Is that so?” You say.

“Yes, but not by much.”

And suddenly I can tell you all about him like you’ve turned some sort of tap and let my words through.