“Maybe you haven’t developed a passion yet because you’ve spent your entire life doing what others wanted you to do.”

These are our sins and how did we ever get here without them

For the hyphenated

It’s a sad thing when you map the borders of a friendship and find it’s a narrower country than expected.

“You want me to come with you?” he asks, like he doesn’t understand why I’m upset. And that’s a big part of the problem. He doesn’t. He can’t.

“No offense, cousin, but even though you are from here, you are also not. I know you want to help, but you have only recently learned about any of this. You are not going to be the one to save us.”

Surely the air your lungs first breathe matters. The language your ears first hear. The foods your nose first smells and your tongue first tastes. The soil you first crawl upon.

I was so close to feeling like I had Jun’s story nailed down. But no. That’s not how stories work, is it? They are shifting things that re-form with each new telling, transform with each new teller. Less a solid, and more a liquid taking the shape of its container.

We can only handle so much truth at any given moment,