Tom had learned how to get through each day. How not to stress or worry or take things to heart.
It could and was attributed to his time in Vietnam. A time when a ‘best friend’ could be killed, or maimed, so not having a best friend let deaths flow by as leaves on a stream.
He never disputed this.
In truth, it was that losing Maya meant he had nothing to live for. He wasn’t living, he was marking time.
He loved Maya today as much as he did when he was six years old. No one would ever replace her.
Tom lived a quiet, emotionless, polite life in which he never admitted how he felt, nor responded to provocation.
He would have taken his own life if it wasn’t a sin.
Tom had decided he would live until he died. Seeing life as a television program. His only hope was that in the afterlife he would see Maya.
He would see Maya, be with her.
In death he would live.