Member-only story
Until It’s Time for You to Die?
I want to enjoy my retirement without thinking of you so much.
Instead, I don’t see when I can ever stop working because I want to make sure that you have some money to live on when I die one day.
I live under the assumption that I will cease to live before you do.
This is not how I wish for your life to be: waking up to spend another day in your room playing computer games and watching films and TV programs.
You’ve never really grown.
I wish you could have gone out there years ago and got acquainted with people more — whether it be a one encounter only or an encounter-turned-friendship or whatnot.
I wish you could have let yourself fall many times and get back up and try and try again. I wish you would earn some of your own money and feel less limited in what you could get and do as a result. I wish you could take someone out on a date for once; I wish you felt free enough to hug and kiss someone and see that person as someone you could work hard alongside. I wish you had a schedule that included regular exercise, time allotted for improving yourself in a hobby or two or three, or attempting a new hobby, or going on an excursion, or doing some errands or even helping out with household tasks.
