You all right?" he said again. I didn't love him, I was far away from him, it was as though I was seeing him through a smeared window or glossy paper; he didn't belong here. But he existed, he deserved to be alive. I was wishing I could tell him how to change so he could get there, the place where I was. "Yes," I said. I touched him on the arm with my hand. My hand touched him arm. Hand touched arm. Language divides us into fragments, I wanted to be whole.