“That’s the kinda stuff that you’ve gotta figure out on your own, I think. Soul searching’s one of those things you do alone.” Mitch and I sit in impressed silence at this wise reflection upon the nature of existence. “Like jerking off,” he finishes, “or taking a dump.”

“I set off on a mighty search for my pants, which I eventually discover underneath the futon. Sorry, pants. You serve me well, by and large, but when you gotta go, you gotta go.”

“Howie?” Arthur says. “What?” “Why do you want me to freak out?” He asks it sort of gently, which makes it worse somehow.“Because you make me freak out all the time.” Maybe I’m not so totally chill, but whatever, whatever, I’m sick of it. “Like, honestly, I’m pretty sure I’ve started doing it professionally. Maybe you should start considering paying me extra. ‘Cause seriously, dude, when it comes to freaking out about you, I am the master. I am friggin’ incomparable, I got mad skills all over the place. And I don’t think this is exactly mutual freaking out, like, I don’t get the sense that I make you want to wither and die and explode. And that’s okay. That’s cool. I’m kind of going through a thing here that you probably went through a long time ago, unless you didn’t go through it at all because you’re just all together, like, you popped out of the womb, all, ‘Thanks for squeezing me out, Mom; no more pussy for me.”

“Mitch is perhaps the most reassuring sight of all. He’s sitting up really straight – like, somebody put a leather-bound tome on his head, because this guy’s posture is ace.”

“I think,” I say, shifting my gaze to the ceiling so I don’t have to experience the torment of saying this directly to another human being, “Mitch might … have … thoughts …”It’s right about here that I get tripped up. “Um,” Arthur says after a long time, “well. I think so too. I mean, I always assumed so. Maybe on occasion he doesn’t precisely give off that vibe, but just because he’s subtle about having thoughts doesn’t mean—”

“You know, I don’t think it’s worth it to deny yourself happiness just so you can stay faithful to the person you think you’ve become.”

“I think back to our fearsome disaster of a night together, with the Old Yeller and the awkward and her pretty much jumping me in an alley. And then her pretty much jumping me in the car. Me pretty much wanting to jump out of my whole existence. And suddenly, I feel really grateful for that whole crazy-ass experience. I’m not sure where I’d be if it hadn’t happened, but … chances are it wouldn’t be here. It’s not like I know where stuff’s going to go from this point. Probably more difficult, scary, confusing, stressful-as-all places. But I’ve got a crazy old bastard trying to force-feed me citrus in the name of my own health, and that? That’s not something I’d trade. “Thanks, Cora,” I say. “Yeah,” she replies, with this little smile that’s almost gentle, “sure.”