At the time, I don’t think either of us realized how much those conversations mattered.
I remember one evening during his sophomore year when I found him sitting alone on our back porch after dinner. The sun had already set. He was staring into the darkness with his hands folded together.
« Everything okay? » I asked.
« Yeah. »
The answer came too quickly.
I sat beside him anyway, and after a long silence, he shrugged and said, « Do you think some people are just born unlikable? »
The question hit me like a punch to the chest. I wanted to tell him he was wrong and give him one of those reassuring speeches parents keep in their back pockets. Instead, I asked, « Why would you think that? »
He shrugged again. « No reason. »
But there was a reason.
There always was.
