Dear Young People,
As you get older it will become harder to stay in touch with close family and friends. Right now it’s almost impossible for you to not to stay in touch with everyone. You wake up and people are there. You are bound to run into one of your siblings or parents getting breakfast in the morning. Then you are dropped off to school where your friends are conveniently put into a room for you. This cycle will continue for a while until one day you move into your own place.
First, you will say you’re busier, but really it’s not true. In high-school you were up by 7 am, at school by 8 and not done with some type of sport/activity until 4 or 5pm. The problem is the lack of convenience, and, honestly, you’re kind of a spoiled dick. You say you love these people, but, if they aren’t conveniently worked into your day then you basically act like they don’t exist. Which makes you a dick.
I love my mom and dad. They have done everything for me. My mom grew me in her stomach and my father changed my world. I mean this literally, from third to first world. They pretty much sacrificed their entire life for me and I, for some reason, can’t call them on a regular basis. I literally will see my phone notification saying my mom is calling and turn back to whatever is on Netflix. I CAN PAUSE NETFLIX, but I don’t. I just turn away and pretend it’s not happening, like systemic racism or The Knicks. All the lady, who created me, wants to do is hear my voice. That’s it. She doesn’t even really want to talk to me for that long.
She loves me unconditionally and I think that’s the problem. I know it. I know deep down inside I can continue watching Sense8(great show by the way), and just call her “later.” I’ll keep pushing it. When I do finally call she is all happy. You think that makes me feel bad? Nope. I feel great. I feel like I made her day. Again, the problem is her unconditional love for her son who she created inside of her and watch grow to become what is legally an adult(the jury is out on relatively).
I have an awkwardly shaped friend named Matt. Him being awkwardly shaped has nothing to do with my story, but he’s going to read that part and I think that’s funny. When we were kids he’d come pick me up in his car sometimes. He’d honk and give me about a minute before he left. I mean this seriously. He would leave. I hated it, but, more importantly, I hated knowing he had defeated me mentally. I would always be ready when Matt was giving me a ride. I’d just sit there looking at the window waiting for him. I was probably outside before he even honked most of the time. You know why? Matt is a conditional guy. If he called me tomorrow I’d pick up, probably on the first ring. But I’m trying to grow.