That’s a heavy word. “Supporting.”

You ask me for favors. You ask me to pick up your dry cleaning, to listen to a work story, to rub your neck. That’s not the same.

Trying is not the same as seeing.

That’s the whole thing?

It’s not an insult. Supporting characters are lovely. They’re funny, they’re loyal, they drive the hero to the airport. But they don’t get a character arc. They exist to serve the plot. And lately—I’m serving your plot.

I want to take a pottery class on Tuesday nights. I’ve wanted to for a year.

I didn’t realize I had a plot. I thought we were just… living.