“I didn’t answer. We were not buddies. We could not chat about the proximity of our offices, or football, or forgiveness.”

“After girls we talked about the officers, and which ones hated us most that week, and how we never did anything to deserve it, and they were just assholes, and if they didn’t have those stripes on their shoulders, they wouldn’t be so tough. Man-to-man we could take them. That was all talk too, I guess.”

“That's what hell must be like, small chat to the babbling of Lethe about the good old days when we wished we were dead.”

“You were worried about me?” “Of course I was, buddy. I would never have forgiven myself if something had happened. You didn’t think I’d be worried about you?” “No. I didn’t think you cared.” Dad looks sad. And surprised. I’m not sure why. “Really, buddy? You didn’t think I cared?” “No.” “Well, I do. A lot.” “Okay.” “I guess I need to do a better job of showing you.” “Yes. You could do a better job.” Dad laughs. And he hugs me again.”

“During all the time we were together, I don’t think I ever found out. But once I was with her, Ididn’t need to. We were both music-obsessed, each in our own way. If we didn’t entirely understandthe other person’s obsession, it didn’t matter, because we understood our own.”

“We read that we ought to forgive our enemies; but we do not read that we ought to forgive our friends.”