We never thought *he* could fall.
“It’s the worst when they happen in bunches,” she said. They all nodded. They knew.
She put her hand on my shoulder. My head sunk. She hugged me. Then they all did, one after another.
When the people in the Downtown Eastside hugged us, it felt like they were saying, “We’re just like you.” It was validating.
1. I think losing our people is hardest because they're the few who accept us for who we are. We should have more people like that.