Getting clean
He isn't serious. He hasn't been for a long time.
He used to be an addict, you know, but he's since sworn off sincerity and sadness. He's doing really well, too, and we're all so proud of him.
I know it's difficult sometimes. When he's in pain and he wants nothing more than to be serious. Just for a little bit. Part of him, the part that's still an addict and always will be, tells him that it's okay to have a little bit of seriousness, a few minutes of sincerity, one quick honest conversation about how much it hurts.
But he knows better. He knows not to listen to that part of him. He knows that no matter how tempting seriousness is, he can't let himself do it. He can't fall back into those habits, that dependency. He can't ruin his life like that again.
So he stays strong. He stays clean. He avoids seriousness and sincerity and honesty. He looks happy, he laughs, and nobody worries. He seems fine. Rather shallow, yes, and a bit of a jerk, but he's okay with that. He's okay as long as he's not serious.