you know, when you’re younger, a four or five year age difference seems monumental. like you’ll forever have this semi-generational divide because they’re in elementary and you’re in high school; you’re getting your driver’s license and they still wear a helmet when they skate; you’re getting a nose ring and they’re still wearing the earrings they got on piercing day.
but then they grow up. suddenly, four or five years becomes relatable like, “me, too!” “don’t you hate that?” “I was just there the other day!” and you have that moment when you realize the “little” is no longer little, just younger…but barley. you get to witness them figure things out and come to very mature, well-thought-out, adult decisions about real life shit.
sometimes you long for the kid with helmet and knee pads and sometimes you revel in the untapped knowledge of this youthful vessel whom you would’ve never thought in a million years would be able to teach YOU something. and all you can do is marvel and hope that this great person they’re becoming is somehow a small reflection of the wonder they see in you.