There’s just now, and there’s just the two of us.” As a guy who loves a girl I realize there’s no such thing. The guy gets the girls, she saves him from himself, fade to fucking black. As a writer, I’m a sucker for happy endings. “The nightmares, the hangovers, the fucking and the punching, the gorgeous shimmering insanity of this city of ours, where, for years, I woke up, fucked up, said I was sorry, passed out and did it all over again.
“Our time in the sun has been a thing of absolute fucking beauty,” Hank reads aloud from the letter he penned.
