I love it when you give me massages. I love it when you stroke my hair. I love it when you… hug me. I love all of it. But… I’m… afraid.”“A...raid?” I asked, a little concerned. “Afraid of what?”“Of taking you for granted,” he answered. “I’m afraid of being… dependent on you. Ever since my diagnosis, I’ve been scared of being on my own. The life my dad and I were having was the only life I knew. That’s why I took a year before heading to college. Not for financial reasons, like I told you when we. I was so impressed that I shook hands with the troopers before they left.I was in Home Depot looking for a replacement counter, a nice deep one. I had an eight foot long one in my hands and was carefully walking towards the checkout line when I hear her."It was you. It had to be you, you son of a bitch. You shot him!"What the fuck? I turned my head and saw her. Kaye. She looked old, tired. She was crying. She screamed "Why the fuck did you have to shoot my son?"Oh, no. I dropped the counter top. More

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