My little brother and I are both hurt. I hosted a fucking-crazy-wild surprise birthday party for our friend Rachel last night full of alcohol and smoke and debauchery, but the pain, at least this kind, can’t be washed away.
Alex: I don’t know what to do.
Me: It’s still fresh. You’re in the hurting stage. Sounds shitty, but sometimes you just gotta hurt.
Alex: I’d rather cauterize the wound.
Me: If you figure out how to do that, you’ll be a rich man.
Alex: I’d take five minutes of pain over five months of grief.
I hate to break it to you, kiddo, but it’ll be more than five months.
I still hurt.