“Oh, all I ever do is talk about it. Talking about it isn’t helping me, it just. It just feels more like wallowing, at this point, because I’ve been stuck with the same problem forever.” Jason murmured tiredly, rubbing his eyes. In trying to avoid venting, he had begun to vent.  In a moment of silent decision, he relaxed his shoulders, leaned his head back against his chair, and just looked at the other. Then he said: “We should do something else. That doesn’t involve talking. Drinking, maybe.”