One evening, I had met someone in a mall. We had coffee and then we went for a drive.
While driving around, he said that he had an eighteen year old son. He didn't meet him often.
I remember I asked him what respect meant to him.
He said, "If you don't kill me, you respect me. That's respect."
A lot of time has passed since then. But I think often. Sometimes more deeply than I would like to.
He meant it.
Sometimes you don't get to hear someone's story. But remember it and you think that maybe there was something bloodstained somewhere.
I hope he is happy wherever he is. Happy and eased out.
While driving around, he said that he had an eighteen year old son. He didn't meet him often.
I remember I asked him what respect meant to him.
He said, "If you don't kill me, you respect me. That's respect."
A lot of time has passed since then. But I think often. Sometimes more deeply than I would like to.
He meant it.
Sometimes you don't get to hear someone's story. But remember it and you think that maybe there was something bloodstained somewhere.
I hope he is happy wherever he is. Happy and eased out.
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