You know when you call your mom, and she sounds... smaller? Like her voice is getting thinner, even though she’s still kinda yelling about the dog? And you’re hundreds of miles away, and you can only hear it, can’t see it, can’t *do* anything about it? And then you just… change the subject. Because what’s the point? It’s not like you can hop on a plane tomorrow. I think maybe I’m doing that more and more. Just changing the subject when it gets too real. Is that a bad thing? I don’t know. Like, what am I supposed to do, cry on the phone with her? That won’t help anyone. It’s not a big deal but… sometimes I just wonder if I’m a terrible daughter. It’s stupid, really, because my own kids are practically adults now, or at least they’re supposed to be. But then I remember being a kid myself, only not really. I mean, you’re in high school, right? Trying to finish your algebra homework, maybe hit practice for whatever sport you’re doing that season, but then you get home and it’s just… you. Siempre tú. And the littles are hungry, and the older ones are out doing god knows what, so you’re the one chopping vegetables, making sure everyone eats something that isn’t just instant noodles. And you think, *this isn’t fair*, but you don’t say it, because who would you say it to? My parents were working their butts off, siempre, always, so what was the point of complaining? You just did it. Does that count as a confession? I don’t know if this counts. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you do what you gotta do, right? You keep putting one foot in front of the other. And maybe sometimes, you just... stop feeling things as much. It’s not that you don’t care, not really. It’s just… flat. Like an old soda. You know? You’re supposed to be fizzing, excited, or maybe even angry, but it’s just… there. And then you hang up the phone with your mom, feeling that familiar guilt creeping in, like a shadow you can’t quite shake, but you also feel… nothing much else. And you think, *god, what’s wrong with me?* But then you remember the bills, the emails, the dog that needs walking, and you just… move on. What else is there?