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She trusted that everything would all work itself out, that we would all find each other in the end. And we always did.
“I’m sorry I push you so much. You’re not me, I forget that sometimes. And you shouldn’t be me. You can be anyone you want to be. Don’t ever forget that, no matter what, OK? Anyone.”
Maybe a different parent would be alarmed by a father and child sitting side by side and staring at separate screens, the silence broken only by the rattling of their keyboards; Jonathan knows that this particular quiet is not a divide but a bond, one that doesn’t need words to fill in the space.
