tiny starts.

standing outside, smoking my last cigarette, on a ten minute break in my longest level of hell, i drew my hood over my head and bowed to the rain.

"i know, you wouldn't want me to live my life this way."

"what way?"

i held my hand out under the rain.

"this way."

"it's true. you've got a lot more to live for than you realize."

"like what?"

"friends, family, me."

"yeah, but you're ..."

"i'm right here," and his hand raises to touch my face.

"but."

"just get through the day, bean. you'll feel better tomorrow."

"one thing at a time."