Maybe because I’d seen the hollow look in his eyes, the one that told me he’d turned something off within himself. I knew how that went. You thought you’d pay any price if you could just make the pain stop. But when you turned off the pain, you turned off the pleasure. You couldn’t appreciate the way the moon glimmered on the lake. Or how a piece of chocolate tasted as it melted on your tongue. You missed the joy of friends wrapping you in so much love you thought you might drown in it.
