When the going gets tough, the tough gets going.
I’m no hero. Far from one. There are days where I return home wounded and battered and tired and the only thing I want is a little corner where I can hide in.
There are days where I want nothing more than to have everything go exactly my way for once. A day where I can shirk all responsibility, to just do whatever it is that I want, to bear no responsibility or consequence for what I do.
I can’t. Try as I might, I just really don’t think I’d end up enjoying myself. I feel I’m truly happy when the people I love are happy. I feel like I’m only truly free when I have the freedom to say “yes” or “no” to myself. It’s, I guess how would I put it? Doing the right thing and being responsible really do make me happy. It makes me feel alive. It makes me feel great. I, um, have very simple interests. I like cute things and I like the simple joys in life. Sometimes I tough things out because I know it’ll be worth it once the hard stuff’s over.
You’re going to think I’m weird, aren’t you?
Hmm, well, it’s what it is.
You know, it’s what Yorkie says to me, too. When the war’s over and we all settle down, someone’s going to get an earful. I, uh, can only hope that it’s someone who would apply the same standard as I would to myself. We’d both be really happy then.