It might be called growing up.

I find myself always wanting to accuse you and say “How can you...” but then I realise that isn't the right question. I want to tell you that you are wrong, and you are betraying your own beliefs. But I'm betraying mine, by letting you get ahead of me. You're happy, and you seem so fulfilled, as if you are gently prompting me to ask myself “How can I...?” It is somewhat mean of you to counter my own stereotypes of your world. But I cannot hate you for that, because your counter is beautiful. Although I do not believe I can follow you, you've inspired me to find my own path. In a way, I want to find out that I am right, that my own ideas are better than yours. But I don't think life quite works out like that, and not everything needs to be a competition. I must remember that. Happiness is something that cannot be measured, so for certain I will never know if I will ever find more or as much as you. But at least I know it exists. And I want to thank you for that.