I worked with two guys that summer: Ernie and Terry. Ernie was a giant man who resembled the modern Meat Loaf. He wore t-shirts featuring Looney Tunes characters and some days wore yellowed aviator sunglasses (I thought they were yellow lenses at first, I was wrong). Working on a temporary crew, especially one doing manual labor - at least in my experience - you rarely share personal stories at all. So I've come accustomed to listening for context in any nook I can. From what I gathered, Ernie had injured his back and knees badly at some point and thought he'd never walk again. On humid days or rainy ones, he'd creak and barely be able to sit down. Again, this man is consistently lifting 100 pounds several times an hour. I figured out that he'd been divorced and had a preteen daughter. I think he only saw her rarely and that his wife was pretty cold. I always got the feeling that quiet Ernie was secretly still in love with his wife and missed his daughter, but had basically resigned himself to self-torture at the whims of Express Personnel Services.

Terry, on the other hand, I always thought was incredibly insane. He was a wiry man, probably in his early forties with a head of kinky curly black hair. Often, he'd wear a sweat band around his head, bisecting his tuft of hair. His entire face looked like it had been injured repeatedly. The most prominent of these features was his mouth, which was crooked and caused Terry to speak roughtly through lips that often didn't cooperate. Yet he managed fine. The guy never fucking shut up. More often than not, he was regaling Ernie and myself with stories of some biker bar he's "met some gal" at or about crossing the city limits to buy hard liquor (since Grayson County Texas is "dry"). Regardless, they were usually exploits about liquor and "gals." Turns out, Terry had been divorced too, but had a girlfriend who spent the night at his mom's house (where Terry lived). I suspected he was mentally handicapped or something. I dunno.

Where I'm going with all of this - if there's anywhere to go - is that I remember coming home after work, exhausted, dead, stinking. I remember collapsing on Mae's couch and wishing she'd asked to hear about my day at all. Rather, I usually had to wake her up and ask her what she wanted for dinner, which I had to run get. After working this week - feeling the same exhaustion - I was thinking that I wished it'd been you then, just like I wish it'd be you now. And I know that it's completely beyond my scope of reason and I've always been able to convince myself that everything happens at precise points that that they might not happen as well without all of the shit that came before. Well, I still think that. But that doesn't mean that I don't wish that you weren't there before.

And in case you didn't believe me when I told you that when I started working I'd miss you more, I hope this convinces you otherwise. Maybe that's why in these two days, a couple of spoiled people nearly a ton apart from each other are even worse off than ever.