{"id":552,"date":"2026-08-06T16:58:05","date_gmt":"2026-08-06T16:58:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/?p=552"},"modified":"2026-08-06T16:58:05","modified_gmt":"2026-08-06T16:58:05","slug":"my-best-friend-stopped-growing-at-age-eight-and-everyone-said-hed-never-find-love-except-me","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/?p=552","title":{"rendered":"My Best Friend Stopped Growing at Age Eight and Everyone Said He’d Never Find Love \u2013 Except Me"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Noah had spent years being mocked for the body he never grew out of, but nothing hurt him like hearing my own family say I was wasting my life on him. On our wedding day, he tried to set me free, and I finally told everyone the truth.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

When Noah and I were six, we made a marriage pact behind the monkey bars.<\/p>\n

It was written in purple crayon on a page torn from my spelling notebook.<\/p>\n

“If we are both still single when we are 30,” I read aloud, “we promise to marry each other.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Noah frowned at the paper.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“You spelled promise wrong.”<\/p>\n

“I did not.”<\/p>\n

“You wrote promiss.”<\/p>\n

“You know what I mean.”<\/p>\n

He sighed like an exhausted lawyer, then signed his name beneath mine.<\/p>\n

After that, we exchanged pink plastic rings from a vending machine outside the grocery store.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Mine had a fake purple gem. His had a crooked silver star.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

We locked pinkies.<\/p>\n

“Thirty is ancient,” I said.<\/p>\n

“Basically dead,” Noah agreed.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Then we ran back to class and forgot about it.<\/p>\n

Two years later, Noah stopped growing.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

At first, nobody understood what was happening.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

He had always been small, but by fourth grade, the difference became impossible to ignore.<\/p>\n

His classmates grew taller.<\/p>\n

Their faces changed.<\/p>\n

Their voices deepened.<\/p>\n

Noah stayed almost exactly the same size.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Doctors ran test after test.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

Eventually, they diagnosed him with an extremely rare growth disorder that affected his bones and hormone response.<\/p>\n

His mind developed normally.<\/p>\n

His body did not.<\/p>\n

By middle school, strangers assumed he was eight.<\/p>\n

By high school, they assumed I was babysitting him.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

By adulthood, they often treated him as though he were either a child or a tragedy.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

Noah hated both.<\/p>\n

He was brilliant, sarcastic, stubborn, and more independent than most people I knew.<\/p>\n

He built websites before the rest of us understood how domains worked.<\/p>\n

He could repair almost anything with a circuit board.<\/p>\n

He read political biographies for fun and cheated shamelessly at card games.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

He also had no patience for pity.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

He never pretended the world was kind.<\/p>\n

He simply refused to let cruelty decide who he was.<\/p>\n

Still, I saw what it cost him.<\/p>\n

Teenagers pointed at shopping malls.<\/p>\n

Adults whispered in restaurants.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Cashiers offered him children’s menus.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

Security guards questioned whether he was old enough to enter places even when he showed identification.<\/p>\n

Dating was worse.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Women treated him like a joke, a curiosity, or someone too fragile to reject honestly.<\/p>\n

He rarely talked about it.<\/p>\n

For years, we were inseparable.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Then life became busy.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

I left our hometown for college.<\/p>\n

Noah stayed and completed an online computer science degree while working for a software company.<\/p>\n

We still spoke often, but not every day.<\/p>\n

Then weekly calls became monthly ones.<\/p>\n

I dated.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

He dated a little too, though none of those relationships lasted.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

At 26, I became engaged to a man named Evan.<\/p>\n

Noah congratulated me without hesitation.<\/p>\n

He never mentioned the pact.<\/p>\n

By then, the purple crayon promise felt like a sweet piece of childhood, nothing more.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

My wedding to Evan was supposed to happen in early June.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Three weeks before the ceremony, I was hit by a car.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

I had been crossing at a marked intersection when a driver ran a red light.<\/p>\n

I remember the horn, the impact, and the sky spinning above me.<\/p>\n

Then I woke in a hospital with a shattered pelvis, a fractured leg, and nerve damage that made my left foot feel as if it belonged to someone else.<\/p>\n

The doctors were careful with their words.<\/p>\n

They said I would likely walk again.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

They could not promise how well.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

Evan visited twice.<\/p>\n

The first time, he brought flowers and spent most of the visit staring at the machines around my bed.<\/p>\n

The second time, he asked how long rehabilitation might take.<\/p>\n

“Months,” I said.<\/p>\n

He went quiet.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n
\n

A week later, he ended our engagement over the phone.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“I am not strong enough for this,” he said as I lay in a hospital bed with metal pins holding part of my pelvis together.<\/p>\n

I listened to the man I had planned to marry explain that my future had become too uncertain.<\/p>\n

“Are you saying you cannot marry me because I might use a cane?” I asked.<\/p>\n

“It is not only that.”<\/p>\n

“What else is there?”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“The care. The appointments. Everything will be different.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

He kept saying he was sorry.<\/p>\n

I hung up before he finished.<\/p>\n

When I spoke with Noah and broke the news to him, he arrived the next morning.<\/p>\n

He had not seen me in nearly a year.<\/p>\n

For one second, neither of us spoke.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Then he pulled a chair close to my bed and took my hand.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“You will not have to do this alone,” he said.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

I started crying.<\/p>\n

He did not tell me Evan was a coward.<\/p>\n

He did not say I was better off.<\/p>\n

He did not promise I would recover completely.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

He just stayed.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

And he kept staying.<\/p>\n

For the next seven months, Noah rearranged his work schedule around my appointments.<\/p>\n

He drove me to physical therapy three times a week.<\/p>\n

Because standard vehicle seats were awkward for him, he had already modified his car years earlier with hand controls and adjustable supports.<\/p>\n

He added a second set of attachments so I could transfer safely.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

He installed rails in my bathroom.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

He lowered shelves in my kitchen so I could reach things from a wheelchair.<\/p>\n

He cooked when standing hurt too much.<\/p>\n

He learned the difference between helping me and taking over.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

When I snapped, “I can do it myself,” he usually stepped back and said, “Then do it yourself.”<\/p>\n

When I failed, he never looked pleased to be needed.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

He simply asked, “Do you want help now?”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

Some days, I hated him for being patient.<\/p>\n

Some days, he hated me for being impossible.<\/p>\n

We argued about pain medication, missed appointments, and the way I refused to ask for assistance until I was shaking with exhaustion.<\/p>\n

Once, after I fell trying to reach the shower, he sat beside me on the bathroom floor.<\/p>\n

“You do not get extra points for suffering privately,” he said.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“I do not want to be a burden.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

His face changed.<\/p>\n

“Do not use that word with me.”<\/p>\n

I looked away.<\/p>\n

He continued.<\/p>\n

“You are injured. That is not the same as being a burden.”<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“You do not know what this feels like.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“I do,” he said. “I know what it feels like when people decide your body makes your life inconvenient.”<\/p>\n

He was right.<\/p>\n

For years, I had defended Noah when strangers underestimated him.<\/p>\n

Then the moment my own body changed, I began measuring my worth by how little help I needed.<\/p>\n

He saw the hypocrisy before I did.<\/p>\n

The day I walked across the rehabilitation room without assistance, Noah waited at the other end.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

My therapist stood beside me.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“Slow steps,” she said. “Do not rush.”<\/p>\n

The distance was only 20 feet.<\/p>\n

It felt like 20 miles.<\/p>\n

I placed one foot forward, then the other.<\/p>\n

My left leg trembled.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Sweat ran down my back.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

Halfway across, I nearly stopped.<\/p>\n

Noah held up both hands, urging me on.<\/p>\n

When I reached him, he was crying.<\/p>\n

He tried to hide it by adjusting his glasses.<\/p>\n

“You are terrible at pretending,” I said.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“So are you.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.<\/p>\n

The edges were soft with age.<\/p>\n

Purple crayon covered the center.<\/p>\n

I stared at it.<\/p>\n

“No.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

He unfolded our kindergarten marriage pact.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“You kept that?”<\/p>\n

“For 23 years.”<\/p>\n

I laughed until tears ran down my face.<\/p>\n

At the bottom of the paper, our childish signatures still sat beside two badly drawn rings.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Noah looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“I need to say something.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

My heart began beating harder.<\/p>\n

“I do not want you to choose me because Evan left,” he said.<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

“I do not want gratitude mistaken for love. And I definitely do not want a promise made by two six-year-olds turned into a debt.”<\/p>\n

“Noah.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“Let me finish.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

“I love you,” he said.<\/p>\n

I looked at the paper in his hands.<\/p>\n

“I have loved you for years. But I only want you if you know the difference between needing someone and choosing them.”<\/p>\n

Then I looked at him.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

For months, I had told myself my feelings came from gratitude.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

He had shown up when Evan had not.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

He had rebuilt my apartment and rearranged his life.<\/p>\n

But gratitude did not explain why I knew the sound of his footsteps in the hallway.<\/p>\n

It did not explain why his laugh could pull me out of the worst days.<\/p>\n

It did not explain why the thought of him loving someone else made my chest ache.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“I know the difference,” I whispered.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

He looked frightened.<\/p>\n

“I love you too.”<\/p>\n

He closed his eyes.<\/p>\n

“Are you sure?”<\/p>\n

“No.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

His face fell.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

I smiled.<\/p>\n

“I am sure I love you. I am not sure how to do this without ruining 23 years of friendship.”<\/p>\n

“That is a separate problem.”<\/p>\n

“So we go slowly.”<\/p>\n

“Very slowly.”<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Our first real date was at a restaurant we had visited a hundred times as friends.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

Everything felt different.<\/p>\n

I changed outfits four times.<\/p>\n

Noah arrived with flowers, then complained that buying flowers had made him feel like a nervous teenager.<\/p>\n

We spent the first half hour discussing whether calling it a date had damaged our ability to speak.<\/p>\n

But after that, dating became easier.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

We still faced stares.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

Some people assumed I was his caretaker.<\/p>\n

Others reacted with obvious discomfort when they realized we were a couple.<\/p>\n

Noah worried I would grow tired of defending us.<\/p>\n

I worried he would never believe I had chosen him freely.<\/p>\n

Our worst argument happened six months later.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

I had started walking with a cane and returned to work part-time.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

Noah offered to drive me to an event, and I accused him of hovering.<\/p>\n

“You are turning into my nurse,” I said.<\/p>\n

His face hardened.<\/p>\n

“I have never treated you like a patient.”<\/p>\n

“You check whether I took my medication.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“Because you forget.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“I do not need you managing me.”<\/p>\n

“And I do not need you proving independence by rejecting every act of care.”<\/p>\n

We did not speak for two days.<\/p>\n

Then I went to his apartment and apologized.<\/p>\n

“I do not want to love you because you helped me,” I said. “I want to love you because you are you.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Noah studied me.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“Then stop acting as if care and pity are the same thing.”<\/p>\n

That conversation changed us.<\/p>\n

We learned to ask instead of assume.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

He stopped helping before I requested it.<\/p>\n

I stopped treating every offer as an insult.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

A year after my accident, Noah proposed.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

He asked me on the footbridge in the park where we used to ride bicycles.<\/p>\n

I said yes before he finished speaking.<\/p>\n

We were both 29.<\/p>\n

Our families did not celebrate.<\/p>\n

Noah’s parents were cautious.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

They loved me, but they feared I had confused loyalty with romance.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

My mother was worse.<\/p>\n

At our engagement dinner, she pulled me into the kitchen and closed the door.<\/p>\n

“You cannot be serious,” she said.<\/p>\n

“I am.”<\/p>\n

“You are sacrificing your youth for a childhood joke.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“This has nothing to do with the pact.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

“You almost married Evan.”<\/p>\n

“I am aware.”<\/p>\n

“Then the accident happened, Noah took care of you, and now you think you owe him your life.”<\/p>\n

“I do not owe him anything.”<\/p>\n

Her eyes filled with angry tears.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“What kind of future can he give you?”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

The question made me cold.<\/p>\n

“The kind built on respect.”<\/p>\n

“You will spend your whole life explaining him.”<\/p>\n

“He is not a difficult concept.”<\/p>\n

“You know what I mean.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“No, Mom. Say it clearly.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

She lowered her voice.<\/p>\n

“He looks like a child.”<\/p>\n

Outside the kitchen, a chair scraped against the floor.<\/p>\n

Noah had heard her.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

I opened the door.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

He was already walking toward the porch.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

I followed him, but he said he needed air.<\/p>\n

After that, the comments became harder to ignore.<\/p>\n

One cousin asked whether we had considered “all the practical issues.”<\/p>\n

A former friend joked that our wedding photographs would be confusing.<\/p>\n

Someone told Noah he was lucky to find a woman “willing to look past everything.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Each remark carved something out of him.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

He stopped talking about the wedding.<\/p>\n

He avoided mirrors during suit fittings.<\/p>\n

When I asked what was wrong, he said he was tired.<\/p>\n

On our wedding day, he disappeared.<\/p>\n

Zahara, my maid of honor, found me while my hair was being pinned.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“Noah locked himself in the dressing room.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

I stood so fast the stylist nearly dropped the curling iron.<\/p>\n

At the dressing-room door, I knocked.<\/p>\n

“Noah?”<\/p>\n

There was no answer.<\/p>\n

I tried the handle.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

It was locked.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“Open the door.”<\/p>\n

“I need a minute.”<\/p>\n

“You have had several.”<\/p>\n

Zahara found the venue manager, who brought a key.<\/p>\n

When the door opened, Noah sat on the floor in his wedding suit.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

The old purple-crayon pact rested in his hands.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

He looked up at me with red eyes.<\/p>\n

“I am releasing you from it,” he said.<\/p>\n

My heart cracked.<\/p>\n

“What?”<\/p>\n

“You do not have to carry me as your burden anymore.”<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n
\n

I knelt in front of him.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“You are not a burden.”<\/p>\n

“You have spent your whole life protecting me.”<\/p>\n

“I spent my childhood punching boys who deserved it.”<\/p>\n

“I am serious.”<\/p>\n

“So am I.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

He looked toward the door.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

\n

“Your mother is right about one thing. You will always have to explain us.”<\/p>\n

\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/section>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

“Noah.”<\/p>\n

“People will stare. They will insult you. They will question your motives.”<\/p>\n

“They already do.”<\/p>\n

“I can stop it.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“By humiliating me at our wedding?”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

His face crumpled.<\/p>\n

“I am trying to save you.”<\/p>\n

“From what? Loving you?”<\/p>\n

“From waking up in 10 years and realizing pity became your whole life.”<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

I took the pact from his hands.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“There is something I never told you.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

He went still.<\/p>\n

“I knew I loved you before I walked across that therapy room.”<\/p>\n

“Christine.”<\/p>\n

“I knew the night I fell in the bathroom.”<\/p>\n

He frowned.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“That was a terrible night.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“It was. I was half dressed, furious, and crying on the tile. You did not rescue me. You sat beside me until I decided what help I wanted.”<\/p>\n

His eyes filled again.<\/p>\n

“Evan saw my body change and decided my life was too difficult. You saw me at my worst and never once made me feel smaller.”<\/p>\n

I touched his face.<\/p>\n

“You did not carry me until I could walk. You stood beside me until I remembered I was still myself.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

He looked down.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

“I still do not want gratitude.”<\/p>\n

“Good. Because gratitude is not why I get jealous when some women flirt with you.”<\/p>\n

A laugh escaped him.<\/p>\n

“Gratitude is not why I know how you take your coffee, why I miss you after one night apart, or why I want to argue with you when we are 80.”<\/p>\n

I stood and held out my hand.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Then I led him into the ceremony room before the guests had taken their seats.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

My mother looked startled.<\/p>\n

I faced everyone.<\/p>\n

“I need to make something clear before we begin.”<\/p>\n

The room quieted.<\/p>\n

“Noah is not a child. He is not my charity project. He is not a promise I feel trapped into keeping.”<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

My mother’s face went pale.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

“I am marrying him because I love him. Anyone who believes he is less of a man because of his body is welcome to leave now.”<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Nobody moved.<\/p>\n

Zahara stepped beside us.<\/p>\n

“You heard her,” she said.<\/p>\n

One guest quietly picked up her purse and left.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

My mother stayed.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

She lowered her eyes.<\/p>\n

The ceremony began 10 minutes later.<\/p>\n

When it was time for the rings, Noah opened the box.<\/p>\n

Inside were our wedding bands.<\/p>\n

Beneath them sat two tiny plastic rings.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

The purple gem on mine was scratched.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

The silver star on his was still crooked.<\/p>\n

I began laughing through my tears.<\/p>\n

“You kept those too?”<\/p>\n

“For 23 years.”<\/p>\n

We exchanged the real rings first.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Then the officiant pronounced us married.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

After that, Noah slipped the plastic ring onto the tip of my little finger.<\/p>\n

I did the same for him.<\/p>\n

The childhood pact had not brought us to that altar.<\/p>\n

It had not survived because we were lonely, desperate, or unable to find anyone else.<\/p>\n

It survived because, somehow, two children had recognized the safest place in their lives long before they understood what love meant.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Noah’s body stopped growing when he was eight.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

His courage did not.<\/p>\n

His humor did not.<\/p>\n

His heart grew big enough to carry our love.<\/p>\n

I did not marry him because everyone said he would never find love.<\/p>\n

I married him because I found mine.<\/p>\n

Do you think the childhood pact strengthened their relationship, or did it create a doubt that nearly prevented Noah from accepting Christine’s love?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Here’s\u00a0<\/strong>another<\/strong><\/a>\u00a0compelling story from our collection that you’ll love:<\/strong>\u00a0Leo had been my best friend when we were five, and I never forgot his promise to come back for me. When a familiar man finally walked into my bakery 20 years later, I believed fate had kept that promise \u2014 until he stopped our wedding before the vows.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n

<\/main><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Noah had spent years being mocked for the body he never grew out of, but nothing hurt him like hearing my own family say I was wasting my life on … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-552","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/552","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=552"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/552\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":553,"href":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/552\/revisions\/553"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=552"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=552"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/metropolitantimeshock.pics\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=552"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}