Selfish? (Private Entry)

He said his name was Jeremy. Stood tall and scared with the sun going down, like his shadow stretching out and looming over would smack him like father to child who misbehaves. Didn't say what he went through, didn't have to. Pain etches deep around the eyes; crow's feet. Crows feed on death, death's the runoff of pain and suffering, the final product of life.

Eyes flicked channels for me to watch; nerves, fear, uncertain, understanding, pity. No commercials. he listened to me, rare like stars at noon. Told me about his room, his singularity defined by four walls and a screen he couldn't trust or turn off or argue with. Shows he saw were worse than what he showed. He said I made sense. I liked that.

Dark things happen with the lights on, I know it. Over half of everything doesn't make sense to me, but that does. Dark things happened. To me. To him. To Torlin who I made cry and then made smile and then she told me her name and we never talked and she's Not Here. Feel selfish for thinking that. For her being gone. Weighs heavier than Jeremy's shadows watching him with disapproval, and it's selfish.

We all suffer, we all flinch and feel old scars and new ones forming. Not less because I didn't see it happen. He said 'if you need anything', and it was true. Real. Honest. He needs something, but won't say. i won't ask. That's selfish for both of us.