Underneath it all, truth be told, I thought I was a hero-in-waiting.
My time would come when I would save the world.
Other things seem to have got in way quite a lot - not insignificantly the ME/CFS.
In fact the ME/CFS has been around such a long time that I have periodically revised the timetable for when I might be called upon to be the right person in the right place at the right time.
In fact, I had pretty much become convinced that the ME/CFS might mean it would never happen after all.
And this has sometimes been a cause for sadness - a grief for lost futures.
More recently, however, I've become aware that I am in fact a small child, desperate for attention, and have been for the past 5 decades.
My long-awaited expectation for the opportunity to express my heroism is actually just a sign of emotional underdevelopment.
Probably no point in sewing my pants to the outside of my trousers then...
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