The Marketing Degree in the Storage Box

Dear Delyara, I was looking for some spare packing tape in the cupboard today and found my old university degree folder from London, the gold embossed letters of my marketing major looking completely pristine against the cheap cardboard box. I sat on the floor with the dust settling on my shins, looking at the graduation photo of a twenty-one-year-old who genuinely believed he was going to revolutionize luxury branding. Replacing that fierce ambition with a security logbook and a bunch of fire-door keys feels like an absolute betrayal of that boy. I let the need for immediate financial safety turn me into a coward, and I don't know how to forgive myself.