sat on his worn out couch

Him: I don’t want to do this anymore.

Her: Then stop.

Him: I can’t.

Her: Why not?

Him: Because I’ve started. Because if I stop, what was the point?

Her: There was never a point.

Him: That’s worse.

Her: It is.

Him: Tell me something good.

Her: Alright. One time, in summer, we stood at the edge of the lake and threw stones just to hear them disappear. The cicadas were screaming, and your fingers were red with melted popsicle, and you told me you wanted to live.

Him: I don’t remember that.

Her: But you want to.

Him: I do.

Her: Then that’s enough.

Him: And if I forget again?

Her: I’ll remind you.

Him: Promise?

Her: Promise.