Once, I wanted you in public but, looking on it this way round, maybe I wanted only what I knew I’d never have, like Hugo Boss or George Clooney’s transition from syndicated TV based on books to direction, and writing and frames, and two-yearly girlfriends who maybe sign contracts or something.
And you, and the years younger, think evasion is a boyfriend-girlfriend game, that snacks are placation, and emasculation is a text book term you haven’t learned yet. Next year, college, semester one.
Any job which isn’t over you isn’t a career I’m afraid, not what I’m planning for, or on, enrolling in continuous professional development courses for or retraining or experiencing work situations for years for free in the hope of a salary.
This might be the start of the slow dissolve, like sugar not quite melting in lukewarm tea, and our sweetness is tart, or will be, once the season’s second half airs.