I don't know if this counts as a confession, I mean it's not really a secret or anything, but tonight at dinner my brother, he's a lot younger, showed up in this new SUV, a really fancy one, and everyone was just going on and on about it, how nice it was and the leather and all, and I was smiling and saying all the right things, how proud I was and everything, and it was a really good moment for him, but inside I was just so... heavy, you know? Like my car is ancient, practically a relic, and I'm still trying to figure out how to make ends meet with my art, and I guess I just felt this huge pang, like I've maybe missed something really important in life, like I took the wrong path, and I think maybe no one even understands that about me.