One Christmas, back when I was around eight years old, my parents took my sisters and I shopping for the day. I remember it because it was the one and only time that we spent together as a family. While waiting for our train home I stood there looking at all the different people on the platform, other families, groups of friends, and my eyes just seemed to focus on this older guy stood on his own. His clothes looked a little worn, his shoulders slumped and his exhausted expression stared into nothing. He looked lost, defeated and I looked into his shopping bag, hoping to see some toys, but instead saw a single carton of milk and a microwave meal for one. I didn’t know who this guy was and was too young to comprehend his predicament but I knew right there that I didn’t want to be like him, I didn’t want to grow up and be the same.
I think I’ve failed.