I can remember the hospital room where you were all bound up and breathing through a tube. I remember the skin that looked like a waffle and the story about the person in the next room that drenched themself in gas. I remember the story about how they broke up with their girlfriend and thought setting themself on fire would be a great way to resolve the situation. I can’t imagine the immediate regret and the lifetime of wonder that set in as they laid in the bed next door. For that matter, I can’t imagine how things went for you from that moment forward. Having your skin melt off your body must be terrifying and paralyzing and all kinds of mysterious as it’s happening.

I was a kid then. I’m not now. All I have are memories and sometimes I wish I didn’t even have those.