Byron needed a little bit of hope.
BYRON: I did it. I came out to my family.
BYRON: And I need a place to sleep tonight.
We finally reached the big moment, and unfortunately, it wasn't one of those inspirational stories where everything turns out fine.
So, we wet Byron up with a place for the night, and then I offered some advice.
ME: Do you have a calendar on your phone?
ME: Mark March 23rd.
BYRON: As what?
ME: The day this will all be okay.
BYRON: How do you know it'll be okay by then.
ME: Most things in life that aren't terminal illnesses, divorce, or bankruptcy tend to be fine after six months. Even this, for as life-shattering and confusing as it is, will be manageable in six months.
Byron looked down at his phone.
I could tell he didn't believe me.
BYRON: It sucks so much.
ME: Six months, Byron. I'm only asking for six months.
He looked up at me.
BYRON: Yeah, but are you even going to be here in six months?
ME: Where else would I be?
I put my hand over his.
Five months and thirty days left...
But who's counting?