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I said and could practically hear my friends telling me to shut up. Sure, knitting wasn’t a common pastime for college-age guys. But it was surprisingly fun. My therapist suggested I pick up something new to help with my recovery. There’d been a knitting circle at the hospital and the women there were kind and patient. They even gifted me a set of needles when I left.
“You don’t like your birthday?” I asked. She never mentioned disliking it on the stream. Not in private chats, either. If anything, she always sounded neutral about it. Not now, though. Her shoulders were slumped and her fingers fidgeting. “It’s a day.” She paused so long I thought we were going to leave it at that. But with a deep breath, she finally added, “I don’t celebrate anymore. Not after my mom died.”
“We did bond one summer, though. You helped me come out as pansexual to my folks.” Henrik broke apart a fallen leaf as he spoke. He seemed a little anxious to have to tell the story again. “They didn’t take it too well. So, you took me on a road trip to distract me. We got stranded because you didn’t have an extra tire for the van.”