“I don’t need you. Not in the ways you think.” Turning his body toward me, he grips my hand. “I need you to be happy. I need you to laugh at me and with me. I need to know when you’re sad so I can hold you and cheer you up. And I need you to stop finishing the job that asshole started. You said the other day that you’ve got nothing to offer anyone. That’s him talking. That’s not what I think and not how you should think about yourself. Nobody should beat you up anymore, including yourself.”
