I was walking with Rose tonight out on the commons. She talked a lot about her new boyfriend and why he's an asshole. I fumed quietly, trying to appreciate the fact that at least she and I are still friends.
"Like the other day...he showed up all drunk and expected to...well, you know. I just don't know how to deal with this sort of thing. I mean, he's a good guy..."
At this point, my quiet fuming turned slightly less quiet.
"No, Rose. He's not a good guy if he's using you. He's not a good guy if he just...expects things like that from you. Hell, Rose, the way you make him sound, I don't think he's a good guy in any way, shape, or form."
At this point, she stopped walking. She stared at me for several seconds, then turned her eyes upwards towards the sky.
"Nice night," she said, gazing at the orange and pink clouds. "You can almost see heaven from here." She started walking again, and I followed. The sad smile she wore told me I had said enough.
