We lay down on my bed. He wraps his arms around me.
We are quiet. But I know I need to explain.
So I do.
December second, three years ago.
I start there.
I end on the day I leave the hospital.
By the time I'm done, I realize I'm crying again.
And so is he.
YOU ARE READING
In Pieces
Short StoryI didn't want to destroy him. I was afraid I would break him into pieces. And add him to the list of people I've broken. There's too many on that list. Too many.