These days go by so fast now. The minutes and the hours and the days and the weeks all stretch beyond my up and over the life I’m expected to lead. I wonder how many moments go by without me even recognizing them existing in the first place. Am I boring to Amelia? Does she like me or is she comfortable with familiarity? Being a father means being mature, but I also want to be fun. I want to be something more than a father. A friend, a future, a familiar. Maybe they aren’t so different, it’s just how we embody the ideal. I’m afraid I’ll be a bad dad until I accept I’m pretty ok.