AN: Hello everyone. I hope you all had an amazing year. This will be the last time you'll have to wait a whole year for chapters. I have completed my fanfiction, and will upload the rest of the documents in 3-4 week intervals. I believe there are 4-5 respectively. Since I may add little things here and there, that may flood over into another chapter if they become too long. Anyway, I am so so SO very thankful for everyones commitment and patience. Your kind reviews always spark my emotions, so I thank you for it all. Of course, I appreciate all the new follows and favorites, I am so glad you enjoy my fanfiction and hope to not disappoint.

Thank you and once again, enjoy.

Chapter 17: Good-Bye

Tap. Tap.

The pointed tip of the pen raps against the blank paper. I stare absentmindedly at the horizontal lines, lost in between the space where words should go. Which ones? Now, that was the real dilemma. So far, it's an apology letter completely bare, with not a single trace of reconciliation. In a perfect world, I would much rather travel back in time and undo the mistakes I had made—the hurtful words I said. I want to take it all back and continue to be as we were, a quirky schoolteacher and silly Shinobe living under the same roof.

I smile faintly at the recollection of early memories, but it's quick to fall as heavy thoughts loom above me. I release them in a heart-felt sigh. What to say…. what to say?

Tap. Tap.

"Yamada-sensei," Yoru chirps my name, tugging lightly at my blouse sleeve. "I finished everything."

"Oh, then let's have a look-sy," I say, taking his worksheet and reviewing it. As I'm checking it, my previous thoughts are insistent and hardly allow the capacity to properly critique. My foot makes a thoughtful tap against the floor, and I fold my arms on the table and lean close to the adorable youngster.

"Say, Yoru," I begin with an almost embarrassed smile. "What would you say to a friend that you really like a lot, but had a fight and both of you said some things that weren't nice?"

"Um, well…" he trials off with uncertainty, swinging his tiny legs back and forth from his chair. With a funny face, he scratches at his brown tuff of hair, "I would say that they're still my friend and I want to keep playing together, because I really like them."

I allow the advice to sink in, translating it into adult structures and applications. I lean back in my chair, and glance down at the parchment I was working on.

"Friends, huh?" I whisper, working out the metaphors in my head. "We still are—aren't we?"

"You, okay? Yamada-sensei?"

"Hm?" I whip my head back into reality and send an uplifting smile at Yoru. "I'm fine. I was just thinking about…what I was going to have for dinner tonight."

"You always think about food, Yamada-sensei," Yoru states in a blunt manner as any child would.

"Okay, that's—not true. So…" with fluster I return the worksheet and circle a problem. "Here; you subtracted 3 instead of two, and it should be 20 instead of 19. Do it again and show me your work."

"Ugh!" Yoru dramatically smacks his forehead, shaking it from side to side. "I was so close!"

A lighthearted smile catches the edges of my lips, and remains present but with diminished meaning throughout the entire time. It brings me no comfort that I'm carrying a burdensome feeling into my work place. Yet, as natural as human emotions are, it's impossible to just pick and choose which ones to feel in each living day.

o o o

By mid-afternoon, the pitting of my chest is persistent enough that the Kazekage is keen to notice the abnormal rise and falls with each breath.

"Sho is everything alright?" I hear my employer's voice call out and pierce my droning thoughts. "Your breathing is odd and…. it seems you're spilling the tea."

"Huh."

My clouded eyes roll downward, catching my prevailing hand tilting the teapot to an almost perfect ninety-degree angle, and allowing a river of brew spill over the Kazekage's cup onto his mahogany desk. Once my awareness comes to terms with this sudden mistake, an internal scream resonates through my body and bones. I whisk my wrist up in an instant and place aside the teapot. I scurry like a measly insect to fetch a dry cloth and dry the wet area. In feverish circular motions I rid the desk of the fragrant puddles. I'm almost reckless to sigh in relief. I find a speck of ginger tea or two have fallen onto the Kazekage's lap; tainting his pressed white ornament robe. I can feel the instant removal of blood from my fingertips.

"Gaara-sama, I'm so sorry," I reel in horror, clutching anxiously at the damped cloth in my hold. "Please, let me take your robe to be dry cleaned."

"Sho, that won't be…"

"There's a very reliable laundry matt near my complex, from what I've heard," I blatantly interrupt, unable to control my mouth at this time. "They say they'll have it cleaned same day. If I hurry after work, I can surely give it to you by tonight. You don't have to worry about picking it up either; I'll gladly run it over to you—"

"Sho," the Kazekage speaks firmly and in a tone that zip locks my lips tight. "….as I was trying to say, that won't be necessary. I have spares, and personal assistants that take care of such little accidents like these."

"Oh, of course…I should've known," I lower my head along with my excitement; evident disappointment in the slump of my shoulders. I suppose a part of me wants to be kept busy, continuously helping the Kazekage and his nephew for as long as I am able. Time is not a luxurious thought anymore, since it won't be much longer till…

"Sho," my employer's voice has softened, and has garnered my captivated attention. "It's almost the end of the day and all of your work is finished; perhaps you would like to leave a few minutes earlier." The Kazekage is baring the most unusual smile, one that is completely new to me. He stands from his chair, and bears his attention down at me, motioning a guiding hand to my arm, "Come with me…there's something I would like to show you."

I nod slowly, and follow as per requested. I keep my eyes on the length of his robe lavishly gracing the corridor floors of the residence, and rippling up a flight of narrowed stairs. At the top of a staircase, a door blocks our path. With a simple push, the door creaks open, and the late afternoon savannah air willingly greets us. With unaccustomed eyes, I step out onto what I perceive to be the roof of the establishment. I squint before the expanse with an impeccable view of the entire architecture of the city. With gentle attendance, the Kazekage leads me carefully to a safety railing, to give me a more breathtaking perspective of the landscape. The strokes of lavender and orange in the sky drape the picturesque scene; the sand structures and homes are brushed with the same painted hues of the submerging desert sun. It is a sight I had never known before.

Unless you would count similar crayon works of my younger self, and my parents hanging the piece on the refrigerator door. That probably would be the closest I have ever been to such a breathtaking scene.

Before I can formulate words of astonishment and 'awe', the Kazkekage places himself closer to my side, and takes the first initiative to speak.

"I make it a point to come here sometimes…. and dwell on the things that need to be dwelled upon." The Kazekage speaks evenly, resting his palms against the railing and extending his chest further out into the warm air. "I remember when I was young, how I would look out at this very same picture and think about ending its very existence…." a sad smile briefly sways at the recollection, before retuning to a cultivated assuredness, "Now, I think of nothing but to protect it; all that it entails. Good or bad."

There is brief silence filled by nothing but my taken breathes, until my employer begs a question, "What do you think of it now, Sho?" His light eyes reflecting the colors of the sunset turn to take mine. "Do you view it differently now than you did when you first came?"

"I do actually," I speak with a not so subtle earnestness. "It was frightening, at first. Everything was so new and different; I thought I'd never grow accustomed or be so welcomed." My own palms grasp the prevailing railing, drawing in the wetness from my peripherals. I even tilt my chin slightly away from the basking sun, knowing well it isn't helping to keep my eyes dry. "I understand that I'll be leaving in a couple of weeks, once my visa expires. I guess all that I can think about is how grateful I am to have been treated so well by Yoru and yourself. I just wish I could've done more for the both of you."

A bashful laugh erupts from the parting of my lips; "All I've really done this whole entire time is serve you tea. It seems silly compared to what I've been given in return."

"If that's how you feel…." The Kazekage begins, and I rear my head upwards to catch the impeccable glow of sunlight bouncing off the pallor of his cheeks and garments. With a predetermined inhale and unyielding straightforwardness, he asks; "then how would you like to serve me my 'silly' tea for much, much, longer."

The whites of my eyes grow more visible at the insinuation, and the Kazekage simply smiles as confirmation to my assumption; "I'm asking if you would like to stay, Sho."

My head and vision bow to meet the floor. I stare at the awkward placement of my feet underneath me, feeling as if the slight breeze might just whisk me away. I'm at a complete and utter loss of concrete words; words that might give the Kazekage the satisfaction he deserves.

"I'm very happy that you would ask me to stay, Gaara-sama." I say with tangible honesty. With what little confidence I can gather to lift my head and sight, I capture the Kazekage in my watery vision, "You've helped me when I was at a lower point in my life but… I can't stay. My family and friends are waiting for me back home. That and I still need to prove myself of something. If I were to stay, I don't think I'll ever feel like I accomplished anything on my own."

It was true; as much as I want to convince myself to stay, a part of me yearns to return to where and when it all started. Some might call it a form of masochism to go back to the instability that was my lifestyle in Konohagakure, but that is exactly the reason why I need to. I have a fundamental necessity to mend the broken pieces of my former imprint, take control of my teaching career and mend the relationships I have managed to put in disarray. Nothing good will come if I don't at least put in the effort to take care of my responsibilities back home. What kind of person would that make me to settle so comfortably without giving myself the benefit of the doubt; that I can be successful and change. Even if I decided to stay, I could never sit well on the fact that my content would rest on the opportunities I have taken advantage of.

"Some sort of personal unfinished business?" He asks.

"Yes, Gaara-sama." I respond almost inaudibly; pained to reject him. "It's a matter of character, besides other things…I hope you understand. I'm sorry—"

"I expected as much." Somehow, his smile hasn't wavered; not one bit. Only a soft release of nervous breath escapes him, "…however, I needed to try."

"My brother is back from his mission successfully," the Kazekake continues evenly, and I tilt my chin up further to listen further; "He's been in Suna for a couple of weeks now, taking care of Yoru's mother in the hospital. She's stable…but very weak. It will be a month or so of recovery before she can be reunited with my nephew. When the time comes…."

The Kazekage's lips struggle to keep their reassuring balance, as his sea green hues break away from mine as if to hide away any emotional fault I can perceive through them; "I imagine it will be very quiet in my office without the both of you, it's strange…how I became accustomed to it."

A solemn chuckle escapes him, as he tends his eyes towards the sky with some form of distant perspective, "Funny...in the end, it looks like I lost to him."

There's a hitch in my breathing as I witness a clear solemnity through his glass like eyes. The walls of my throat clench, feeling as if I'm being physically choked. The lonesome image of the Kazekage sitting at his desk in an empty room for hours on end wraps an unbearable grip on my heart. Would anyone take a moment to ask how his day was? Would anyone invite him to have lunch? Would anyone even take the time to have a meaningful conversation with him, without discussing business affairs? It was too cruel and unfair to perceive the emptiness his position might carry. My employer—the Kazekage—is still just a man in need of company.

And I'm just a fool who can't give it to him.

The guilt causes my body to involuntarily press forward; my arms instinctively outstretch to wrap themselves around the Kazekage. The pressure I apply is radiating with sympathy, and I can't help but cry the words 'I'm sorry' over and over again, like a plea for mercy. I feel terrible that my tears are dripping onto his tailored shoulder, and that he may grow deaf from my insistent apologies. It's so insulting of me to show such a spectacle, and have the Kazekage console me.

"You're free to come back whenever you wish," my employer speaks, returning my affection with small pats to the top of my head. "You may regard Sunagakure as a second home from now on…. my gates will always remain open for you."

"Thank you, Gaara-sama," I say softly while nodding into the fabric of his dampened chest. I note his fragrance of ginger and potted cacti, a smell I will surely miss. "If you ever visit Konoha, you're more than welcomed to stop by for tea."

"I'll make sure to leave room in my schedule for that day," I hear the Kazekage chuckle, a rarity among other things in his personality. The hold the Kazekage has on me tightens, if only just an insignificant amount; "I have one more favor to ask you," he states, and I regard him with but a small noise in the back of my throat. "It's an embarrassing request but….I'd would like to remain like this a little longer."

I don't comprehend his request right away, until I hear distinguishable cracking and grains of sand being carried away by the roof top breeze. The granules that aren't swept away fall onto the bridge of my nose, tickling my face. Coming to a complete understanding, I give myself fully into his request; burying my forehead deeper into the rising and falling of his chest, so that my sight may not catch his faults. Even with such faults, the Kazekage resembles a beautifully cracked vase; it's once empty crevasses now filled to the brim with shimmering gold.

The touching moment had given me new perspectives. When I returned home from that evening my will had been rediscovered, passionate and openhearted. The words flowed from my ballpoint pen and marked the note that I would later send. My hands had barely shaken when I placed the letter into a postal bin, and I was able to move on feeling lighter.

It was a great feeling.

o o o

Two weeks have now passed. It is a warm Sunday morning, and the day of my departure from Sunagakure. I was picked up promptly at 7:00 a.m from my insignificant apartment, now barren without the slightest hint that I had stayed there at all. It was hard not to weep instantly when the Kazekage arrived to escort me, along with a half-asleep Yoru in his arms with a bright red nose. It was clear the poor thing didn't get a wink of sleep, knowing that I would be leaving this morning.

"Have a safe trip, Sho." The Kazekage smiles softly down at me. His eyes squint with a particular expression of warmth, "…a letter of your safe arrival would be appreciated."

"Of course, Gaara-sama," I speak with a quiver in my voice, taking anxious glances at the caravan already being loaded with luggage and travelers. "I'll send you and Yoru plenty of letters. I promise."

"I'll miss you Yamada-sensei," Yoru bleats tiredly, with tears flowing down his rosy cheeks.

"I'll miss you too, Yoru." I reply whilst wiping away those innocent tears and brushing back his baby brown hair. "I know you're going to do great at your first year of school. You're one smart cookie."

"Uh-huh," came his short and sniffled reply.

My heart clenches as the coach driver announces the final minutes of boarding. I bite my bottom lip, having such a difficult time saying the words. "Good—"

"Until we meet again," Gaara interrupts me in confidence. "Sho."

My violet hues gloss over with wetness, but I bow my head in curtsey, "until then, Gaara-sama."

Walking away I could hear Yoru's sniffles grow louder with intensity, and faintly, I heard calming whispers echoed by the Kazekage. My heart became a ghostly thing, haunting my chest with a heaviness that was too burdensome to bear. Yet, I carried it along the two-day trip; starring out the caravan window at all the trailing landscape….but I saw nothing at all.

Nothing.

o o o

What should I do? What should I say?

My thoughts pull at me relentlessly since I've arrived back at Konoha. You would think I'd be elated, and in some regards, I am. However, I have no idea how to confront my roommate after treating him so bitterly, even though I had sent that letter. I grip the handles of my suitcases, continuing tensely down the street back to my apartment. A figure appears against the horizon trickled with houses and other complexes. My head lifts higher, capturing the individual making their way towards me.

"Tenten," I say out loud.

"I thought I recognized you, Sho." Tenten greets me, coming to stand at a conversational distance away from me. She places a casual hand on her hip and smiles, "I haven't seen you in a while, since you left anyway. How's it going?"

"Good, thank you," I answer quietly. "How about you?"

Her brown eyes seem to tire at my question, her smile mirroring the same solemnity, "Ah, well, not bad. I guess I'm doing better than someone else at the moment." Adjusting the straps of her traveling gear, her lips struggle to maintain any lightheartedness, "Sorry to spring this on you, but now that I've run into you, I was hoping I could ask a favor."

"Of course," I reply politely. "What would you like me to do?"

"I was wondering if you could tell me how Lee's doing," she says, continuing with a heavy sigh. "I haven't seen him in almost a week, and it's unusual for him to miss training. I just went to the apartment to check up on him before leaving for my mission, but he didn't answer."

Lee's been missing training?

"I understand, leave it to me," I say, smiling with reassurance. "I'm heading back to the apartment to unpack my things now, so I'm sure I'll see him sometime when I'm home."

"Thanks, Sho. It means a lot to me," Tenten says, forcing the tilt of her lips. "I have to get going. I'll see you around."

"Be safe, Tenten," I say good-bye, waving her away as she treks past me and vanishes into the next street.

The same hand I used to wave the konoichi off snatches up my suitcase, dragging it behind me as I quicken my pace. Once I reach my apartment complex, I strain up the stairs and fish out my keys. Unlocking the door, I make my way through the entrance. I startle myself upon stepping inside, finding a brand new coat hanger in my peripherals. I place a hand over my rising chest, riding the imagery of the decorative piece resembling any form of a human being.

Since when was there a coat hanger by the front door?

I leave my suitcases by the door, treading lightly through the dimness towards the kitchen. I have to pinch my nose at the onslaught of unpleasant smells lifting heavily from the cluttered sink and unattended garbage can. I dare to open the refrigerator, finding plenty of molded fruits and other perishable goods gone rancid. I cough out loud and relieve myself of the aroma and sight. I shuffle towards the living room couch, peering over at the coffee table completely covered in half-emptied cups and spills.

What on earth?

"Lee-san?" I call out into the apartment, hoping to receive an answer. I don't hear any response, except the loud humming of the air conditioner filling the living room.

I walk into the hallway and notice my roommate's bedroom door open just a crack. I subtly make my way over, pushing my fingertips into the wood. It creaks as I come to stand just below the doorframe, staring absently through the obscureness of the room. The window curtain is slightly drawn, allowing only a sliver of fading afternoon light to seep in. It's enough to shed detail on the clusters of clothes and towels crumpled on the floor, with the additional miscellaneous items scattered about carelessly. The same fading afternoon hues stretch a line across the bed, the centerpiece of the room. Underneath that hazy orange line is an ankle, only a small part belonging to a whole person. I realize that person to be my roommate.

"Lee-san," I say in a small voice, not wanting to rudely wake him, if by any chance that he is asleep.

My roommate doesn't stir at the sound of his name, and I tread cautiously through his room to get a better look. I tiptoe to the side of the bed he occupies; knees drawn and completely still. Immediately, I sense something's wrong. I quickly place myself on my knees beside his bed, leaning close to examine his features.

I withhold a gasp. His complexion is entirely flushed; eyes clenched shut, breathing irregular, and brows furrowed in discomfort. I even discern traces of damp puddles beneath his sunken eyes. Has he been crying? I bring my hands to feel his cheeks and forehead, wincing at the heated touch.

"Oh no. You're burning up," I say with worry. "How did you become so feverish?"

I don't expect a coherent answer, and I'm merely graced with a string of groans, which I believe are poorly shaped words.

"I'll be right back," I inform him before standing. I rush out into the hallway and enter the bathroom, searching through the medicine cabinet for a thermometer. Retrieving it, I head back into the bedroom and take the same kneeled position beside his lying form. I hurry to turn it on and motion the metal end to his lips.

"Alright, open up," I coax softly, pinching his chin lightly and urging his mouth to part. I ease in the thermometer under his tongue, and wait a minute or so until it beeps. Sliding it out, I read out the temperature and frown at the results, "That's definitely a fever."

I place the thermometer off to the side and stand. I head into the living room and reach to pick up the phone. I dial my mother's number and press the receiving end to my ear. I wait a few moments before the line connects and my mother's voice enters my hearing:

"Yes, hello? This is the Yamada residence, may I ask who is calling?"

"It's me, mom." I answer.

"Oh! Honey, did you just get back from Suna? That's wonderful, you have to tell me everything about your trip," my mother replies excitedly.

"I'll have to tell you later today, I actually have something that just came up and I need your advice," I say, shifting my attention from the hallway back to the phone cord. "My roommate is sick with a fever, but I'm not sure what I should do."

"That's awful. What's his temperature?"

"It's 101 degrees Fahrenheit," I reply, biting my bottom lip. "Do you think he needs to see a doctor?"

"Oh, honey. He won't be needing a doctor," she chuckles. "All you have to do is give him over the counter medication to reduce any discomfort. Also, make sure he's taking in enough fluids; dehydration is the main problem you want to avoid. If you do all of this, he should be just fine."

I nod to myself, "Thank you, mom. I'll be sure to do that."

"No problem, dear," she says affectionately. "I'll let you go now. Love you, Sho. Just give me a call if you need anything else."

"Love you too," I smile. "Bye."

I hang up the phone and proceed into the kitchen, gulping down the unpleasant sight. Before I use another other glass, I do a hasty job of cleaning the dishes. Once I'm finished, I pour a glass of filtered water and grab two painkillers from the overhead cabinets. I shuffle my way back into Lee's room, taking a seat on my knees.

"I brought you water and some medicine," I inform him in a small voice.

The heavy lids covering his large circles gradually open, until he is able to gaze at me with half closed eyes. Those black saucers of his draw into mine, although they regard me with loose awareness.

"Yamada-san…" he speaks my name weakly, staring absently at me. "Welcome home."

"Thank you," I smile faintly, handing him the items. "Now take your medicine. It'll make you feel better."

My roommate props himself up on a shaky elbow, taking the pills and plopping them into his mouth. I help him hold the glass of water between his lips, until there's not a single drop left. He exhales out of exhaustion, placing his full weight back onto the mattress. On the assumption that I should allow him to rest, I gather myself from the floor and attempt to make my leave. Before I even take a step I feel something touch my hand. I turn to view my roommate's fingers have outstretched to take mine, asking for my attention.

"I am sorry," he speaks faintly. "I did not…read it."

I tilt my head, unsure of what he's trying to get across to me. His fingers soon release mine, attempting to open his nightstand drawer. I place the emptied cup on the table and help him open the drawer. I blink, noticing a sealed envelop, which he gestures for me to take. I willingly accept it and bring it closer to my view.

"My letter," I say out loud, rereading my name on the postal. My eyes glance over to him, and I smile half-heartedly, realizing what his apology was for. "It's okay, Lee-san. I wouldn't have opened it either…I'll just throw it away for you."

"No," he breathes heavily. "Please, read it to me."

I pause, but I submit to his request. I wrote the letter for him, and it's only sensible that I should read it to him while he lays in his current condition. I place myself at his bedside once again, tucking my knees underneath me. I slowly open the envelope, shifting embarrassed looks from my roommate back to the letter. I take in a small inhale before reading:

'Dear Lee-san,

There are words that I wish I could take back, and moments I wish I could do all over again. In my whole life, I've had plenty of times that I wanted to re-visit; to turn a frown up side down, or give a compliment when I knew someone really needed it the most. However, if I could pick any moment out of my life, I would pick one with you.

Instead of pointing out your flaws, I would tell you how nice your smile is, and how I would want mine to look the same. I would ask you how your day was, and listen patiently, excited to hear each and every word you say. Even if all you told me was what you had for breakfast that morning. Or maybe, I would ask you what your favorite anything is, just to be able to get to you know better.

Most importantly, I would take that moment to say 'I'm sorry'. I know that whatever I could say may never replace what I've said. If I need to, I will gladly compliment you for the rest of your life to make up for it, because you're not just my roommate, Lee-san.

You're my friend.

Sincerely yours,

Yamada Sho'

I finish reading my letter and fold it back into the envelope. I flush at the thought of having to direct my attention back at my roommate. When I do, I watch tears well up at the corners of his eyes, waiting to drip helplessly onto the pillow beneath his head.

"Lee-san," I gasp at the display. "Oh no, was my apology that bad? It was bad, wasn't it? I know, it was super cheesy, I should have worded it better."

"Yamada-san, you should not have apologized to me. I should have…" a trembled breath interrupts him, and he swallows his distress as best as he can to continue. "I did not read your letter…because I thought if I did, it would say all the things that I did not want to know about myself." There's a break in his delivery, and an established quiver settles in his voice, "You were right, Yamada-san. I am selfish. I should not even be considered an adult."

"What are you saying," I state rather than ask, completely taken aback by his self-induced criticism. "You don't have to cry over what I said or what you didn't do. I was in the wrong to call you selfish, if anything; I'm probably the selfish one that needs to be crying for your forgiveness. I acted like a terrible friend at that party. I really don't blame you for not reading my letter."

"It is not just the letter or the party, Yamada-san," he chokes, pressing his hands against his soaked eyes. "I ended everything with Sakura."

His hicks intensify into sobs, as if even he's unable to comprehend the magnitude of his words. My eyes remain wide with shock, until they settle with an understanding that explains all that welcomed me. Superfluous questions, such as 'how' and 'why', are absent from my conscious thought. All that I want to give attention to is my roommate, and my obligation as a friend to comfort him.

"Lee-san," I speak his name softly, touching his forearm delicately. "You don't have to be so hard on yourself. I think…sometimes people fall out of love, just as easily as they fell in love."

"Why? How is that possible?" he cries, utterly confused by the very idea, which is the unfortunate reality of things. "I promised…I promised that I would always love her. Why did I lie?"

"You didn't lie," I inform him. "You do love Sakura-san. Even now, how your feeling right this very moment is proof of that fact. Your promise is still there, Lee-san. You just don't see that there's a difference between loving someone, and being in love with them."

"Why is it so complicated?" he asks with an audible lump in his throat.

"I…don't know why," I hush at the question, utterly unsure of the correct answer. Why is love so complicated? Why is it that we can't just stay with the person we say 'I love you' to for the first time? I can only rationalize an idea that even the most educated minds can't seem to understand; "All that I know is that love is an emotion you can't force. Not from anyone, and not from yourself. I believe you did the right thing, Lee-san…by letting her go, she can find someone who can give her that special kind of love we all want to find."

My company can only respond with an ebb and flow of tears. And I can only watch, rubbing his forearm, unable to mend a pain with all the prescription medications, sleeping pills, and comforting words in the world.