My best friend is insane. I thought you'd like to know that.
He went missing a while back, left his poor wife scared, his children fatherless, and the rest of us wondering if we'd ever see him again, ever find out what happened. The investigation dragged out so long the media lost interest. It became the fodder for conspiracy theories, myth...Fiction.
And then he came back. I was the happiest man in the world. He was a childhood friend, you understand, someone I grew up with, knew everything about me, just like I knew everything about him. Used to. Until he started telling us his stories.
Listen, I know what he was like before. Like everyone I know, he would've dismissed that kind of talk, laughed it off, assumed if any of us talked like that, it was just a joke. But he wasn't joking. He really believed it.
He lost a decade of his life. That's as much as I can say for certain. Maybe he was in a coma somewhere, and someday I'll meet the people who cared for him, and thank them. But only just. Because they didn't do him any favors, for all I care now. He's just not the same man anymore. He scares me.
Maybe one day...I don't know. I just don't know. I love the guy, I really do. Maybe I'm just not being fair to him. I owe him better than what I've done for him since he's returned. I mean, he deserves better, right? He deserves support. Well, maybe in another lifetime, Ulysses...
"But this is not the story," says Kindly.
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