“Nothing’s wrong, buddy,” I assure him. “Just got some stuff I’m trying to figure out.” “Are you sure? You really don’t sound right. You haven’t made a single joke this entire time. Are you sick? Actually, if you are sick, I’d rather not know, because I’m not sure I could handle the stress of knowing.” I laugh. “I’m not sick. Not dying. Nothing is wrong. Honestly, I’m just in my head about some personal stuff and I’m trying to work it out. Nothing bad, I promise. And you know I’ll end up telling you eventually, I’m just not ready yet.”
