I remember this time when I was small, maybe 5 or 6. It was storming outside, hailing I think. The sky was green. This was maybe 10 at night, and I was asleep in bed. After I went to sleep the storm got worse. My parents moved me from my room into thier bed with them while I was sleeping so I wouldn't get scared by the storm. When I woke up, I lost my shit and freaked out. Not because it was storming outside, but because I didn't know where I was when I woke up.
I still remember those occasions when I was really small and scared. I was very emotional as a child. That child still exists in me. When I hear Ashley's 3 year old cry, it brings back all those memories of when I would get upset for unknown reasons. I said unknown, because I don't remember why I was upset, the only thing I do remember was it making sense to me at the time. That's why when I hear her cry now, I don't get mad or frustrated when I'm trying to sleep, I get a sense of empathy. I remember reading this short story in my college english class; The short version is that a girl is turning 12, but she still feels like she's 2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10, and 11. Like rings on a tree. We don't grow as human beings, we layer, and with each new layer comes increased complexities to our personality. I fight with those inner layers on a daily basis.