At night sometimes you lie there and consider how strange it is to feel the same way you did years ago when you were lost and bewildered and felt like you were never going to grow up. That was something other people seemed to do but it didn't seem to be your lot. Because you were so fragile and so full of hope, while everyone else seemed so cynical beyond their years, so sure that it was all a crock of shit, that faith and hope were for weaklings, mama's boys, losers. But you knew that if you lay there long enough the words would come to you, even if only from somewhere inside yourself, but clear enough that you knew they weren't your creation alone.
"It's OK, everything's going to be OK."
And you knew that it would be. And you know that it is.