Inside the envelope is a photograph—the sort you get developed from disposable cameras. And I know immediately that I took this one. I remember the exact moment I decided to take it, walking into my room after getting a glass of water to find Charlie curled up so beautifully in my bed, the orange streetlamp light shining on his skin, and I felt like if I was going to die, this would be what I wanted to see last.
I’m ugly crying
