I grew up before you. I got out of it and we fell out of step and I guess you stopped… stepping, moving forward, making progress, I don’t know. I’m not calling you a child, I’m not saying I know everything or anything - I get that growing up isn’t about answers or holding your heart together, I know that no one has that. When you’re older you don’t die, you keep your head off the floor, you make money, you spend money and you iron your own shirts. You move away. You find your own life. You’re still scared, you still like to think that an actual adult is behind you, like when you first rode a bike. They were holding on and running along so you wouldn’t fall, only they let go, long ago and when you finally came to a stop you looked round and they were so far back you couldn’t even see them.
I don’t have a clue what you’ve been doing all these years I’ve been learning to change a tire and set up a direct debit and mow a lawn. None of those things, I know, but I’m trying to tell you they’re easy, they’re nothing, if you’d pick yourself up you’d pick them up in a heartbeat. Do you think I sleep well with nothing on my mind and wake up and act okay because I feel okay? You do, but it’s a lie and one of yours, not mine.