“I’m not allowed to be human.” Those tears fall, but I quickly wipe them away with my thumbs before he freaks himself out too much when he feels them on his cheeks. “I’m not allowed to mess up. I’m not allowed to step out of line. I’m not allowed to get injured and take a month off. I’m not allowed to turn it all back on. The amount of pressure on me,”—he sucks in a sharp, shaky breath—“feels suffocating. I feel suffocated.”
Baby
