Also

It rains and rains, but everything is warm. We sit at the end of the bar racing through topics because how can we ever catch up when time is so short. Her advice is an anodyne, you see the synapses light up behind her eyes to patch your every wound, pair each tough truth with a parcel of hope. When his anger attempts to sow distrust along your heartstrings, you feel that old defense line up. How broken hearts will try to break the world. I mended mine, you know, glued it and softened it again until I dared to think it could survive the rain once more. I sit here now under this ridiculous umbrella, alongside piles of truth with this parcel of hope in my hand and do you know?

There’s room for one more
if you want it.