The thing I think we can’t figure out is which of us really would do it, and I hope you know what I’m saying. I don’t mean come back from the dead or wait forever; you know I’d come back for you. We were born waiting. I think the mistake is believing in the wrong righteousness, in thinking that I am what I try to be, instead of just trying. Or mistaking what righteousness is altogether. Is God kind? And maybe that’s what gives it away, that kind of big-headedness. You compare yourself to God and it’s all over, you’re the guy with the shinier hair, the newspaper smile. But I’d burn it down for you, if that’s what we’re saying. My reputation. The whole country. You know the ugly truth of it. How little I can care for anything I don’t love. Why should I forgive anyone? I’ve got you to live and die by, judge, jury, executioner. Burn the rest up. Red and then blue and then white, white hot. You’re the coal at my core and I’ll keep you there, no question. A man of unswerving loyalty, principles. So maybe I can see it. Fine. It’s true I’ve been afraid of one thing my whole life, but there’s that second, bigger thing, more frightening. And the important bit: we both know what that is.













