Seniors, peers and younguns alike, I know what they mean. They mean well, to query out of concern and/or to make transitory, ostentatious small-talk which, to me, is even more unnerving than pregnant pauses and audible respiration. Difficult to embark on conversations that I know will eventually default into one train of thought - of self-deprecation, of envy and of silent, bitter misery. Lord, what am I to do? Please just please.
I'm too good at certain things - not many things, just the wrong things. Leaving things on the back-burner: an apology and just as much a thank-you, a text to say I love you too, an "I'll be there", a congratulations, a confession to a lie. Until it gets too convenient. Too easy. I'm good at that, so good. Is this where faith comes in?
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