being tired completed his responsibilities for the day.
If I told him I was tired too, he heard me.
But my exhaustion rarely changed what he did.
It registered the way rain registers when you’re safely indoors.
You know it exists.
You simply don’t feel wet.
I don’t think Ethan was intentionally cruel.
He had simply spent thirty-three years learning that his exhaustion mattered first.
No one had ever told him that directly.
Sylvia had taught it through actions.
Every time something became difficult, she made it easier.
Every time
