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“As your personal doctor who is concerned with the color of your balls, I’m simply prescribing a way to take care of yourself other than using your hand.”
“Herbert, you’ve known me for a long goddamn time. You’ve seen the lack of luck in my life. So where the fuck do you come off thinking that this hire is not going to come back to bite me in the ass?”
“Please, Ryland, please take care of her for me. Give her a beautiful and special life. Teach her everything I would teach her. Love her the way I would love her. And please keep my memory deep in her heart.”
She loves holding my hand. She loves skipping while I walk. And she loves just . . . being with me. I don’t get it. I’m not sure I ever will. But fuck, am I thankful.
“You might not want to be shielded, but you sure as hell will be shielded by me. Don’t fight me on it.”
“The answer is no. I don’t want to leave you alone. I want to be there for you. I want to hold your hand. I want to capture the moment of you watching your brother play his first big league game so he can watch it over and over and see how much pride you have for him. I want to make the day special for you because you deserve it. But I also want you to be comfortable, so if that means I step aside, I act as the driver, and that’s it, then I’ll do that too. I just want you to be happy, taken care of . . . protected.”
I needed this to push me to what I’ve been trying to avoid. She’s it. She’s what I want. And there is no way in hell I can go another day without her knowing.
Is this what it feels like to start the path to . . . to loving someone?

