My parents grew up working class, but in that way that working class families do, they spent a fortune on education to better me.
There were things that had been weighing heavy on me for quite some time. And I went into this hole, trying to work through some of these things so that I could be a better me and be a better mom to Julez and be a better wife and a better friend and a better sister.
Did you see a doctor? (Syn) Yeah. It’ll heal. (Cruel) Did your mom say anything? (Syn) Clean the blood out of the carpet before it sets. What could she say? Better me than her. (Cruel)
Yes, I worry about the craziest things, but better me than someone less qualified.
We can drop the fundamental hope that there is a better "me" who one day will emerge. We can't just jump over ourselves as if we were not there.
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