Oh. Yes, but no? I mean he's alive. But he hates us and left. But he looks happy, maybe. Without us. Which is maybe saying something? I mean, maybe we're all just sort of in this knot of ... something that makes everything more miserable around us and we forget to even ask things like people's names. Like this little self-perpetuating bubble of something that we won't even notice until we go our separate ways.
I'm fine. I might throw up but that's just because I went through a tree to the wrong place, probably. And all the booze.