Sitting at Library Alehouse, drinking a Rochefort. On the television a Red Sox game is on. The score is 2/2 and it's the top of the third, but none of this really matters; I came in to distract myself. I only glance up at the screen because that's what you do at a bar. But I realize all of a sudden, from a previous text, that my sister (who recently moved to Boston) is waiting outside this game to get in. Although I am far more comfortable on my bar stool than she is in line, that we are in some way sharing this moment is the first truly happy thought I've had all miserable day. My thoughts return to last night and how A.L. told me he was and is still with me. My God how we are always, always, all with each other.