He had written a long account of how lonely his apartment felt and how difficult it was to start over.

Halfway through, he asked whether I thought we could “try being friends again, like before all this.”

I considered what a friendship would require.

Trust.

Consideration.

The ability to hear the word no without making it a contest.

I didn’t want to punish him, but I wasn’t ready to take responsibility for teaching him those lessons either.

I wrote back the next day: Roger, I hope your new routine gets easier.