You

“You’ll be fine,” he said. “You’re smart.”

“I’m not smart”

“Yes you are”

“Wold you quit saying that? No, I’m not.”

“Oh yes, you are…”

“Anyone with a comprehension level of an ant can read something and regurgitate information. That’s not being ‘smart’ it’s picking up a fucking article and reading once in a while.”

“Oh stop. You’ll find something.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you will.”

“How long is this gonna last?”

“I don’t know”

“Then how do you know I’ll be fine?”

“Because I believe in you.”

I’m glad someone believes in me. I don’t believe in me. I’m not sure where all this faith is coming from.

It feels really unmerited. It kind of comes off as disingenuous in a way? Do you actually believe in me? Or do you hope I don’t end up under some bridge? Faith and hope are not the same thing.

It’s kind of insulting that anyone would have faith in me. What did I do to earn it?

And if working minimum wage jobs and chugging beer on the weekends and just merely existing builds some kind of foundation of faith, then we’ve set the bar really low.

I’ve set the bar really low.