Keep You Near

A man rends himself to pieces in an effort to cope.—‘“You should go outside,” he says to me. “Look. The sun’s so big and orange.”He’s looking out the window from the armchair in the corner of the room. For all he fills the thing out, it might as well be a whole king size mattress. We live alone, and I can’t afford anything like an actual bed, so in the guiltiest way I’m almost glad he’s so not-there. He says he’s happy with things the way they are, but I think maybe if I didn’t sleep on the floor he’d at least be able to enjoy a comfortable couch without feeling ashamed of himself.’