“By the way, I have a surprise for you.” I take his hand and lead him into my bathroom, then turn on the light. He walks up to the mirror, which I’ve decorated with Post-Its of every color, all folded in half from the bottom up. “What’s this?” “Just pull them off and read them,” I say quietly. He reaches over and grabs a yellow one. “You are special,” he reads as he unfolds it. Then he takes a purple and unfolds it, too. “You are worthy.” He turns to me. “Henry, what is this?” “When you said that thing about Facebook, and Atlanta, it just broke my heart…nobody should ever feel like that, so I
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