I grew up an only child being taught not to get too attached to things, material or otherwise. It was almost too easy. In rebellion during my teens I went the other direction, choosing to live for things, moments and people. Most of that has not changed, but like cycling a deep-seeded part of me has not forgotten how to detach, and in some situations I do it almost sub-consciously. Like now.
The only thing that’s stopping me from walking away is a current lack of need to move on from things I have already detached from. So I go about it almost reactively, servantile-like, unsure as to where the last vestiges of my former proactiveness has bled to; still occasionally putting up a meek objection here and there but this time happy to let someone else stand in the limelight where I’d have previously attempted to stand ground.
I kinda miss the old Steph.
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