歌背后的故事The story behind it
我是两个男孩的爸爸。
孩子还小的时候，我总希望他们快点长大。快点学会自己走路，快点独立，快点不用我操心。
可是当他们真的一点一点长大，我才发现 —— 我想要的那个「快点长大」，并不是我真正想要的。我开始舍不得。
这首歌一开始不叫《半步》。它叫《子信》—— 那时候我只是想写一封信给我的两个孩子。有些话平时说不出口，那就写下来吧。
然后改了一版。再改一版。又改一版。《半步》最后录了 100 次。
中间我认真纠结过一个问题：《一步》，还是《半步》？直到有一天我想到 —— 半步比一步近，可是比零步远。
因为孩子长大以后，我不想一直挡在他前面告诉他该往哪走，可是我也不想走得太远，假装自己什么都不用管了。
所以《子信》最后变成了《半步》。这首歌写给我的两个孩子，也写给每一个和我一样 —— 一边希望孩子长大，一边又偷偷希望他们慢一点的父母。
I'm the father of two boys.
When they were small, I always wanted them to grow up fast. Learn to walk on their own, become independent, stop needing me to worry.
But as they really did grow up, bit by bit, I found that "grow up fast" wasn't what I wanted at all. I started not wanting to let go.
This song wasn't called Half a Step at first. It was called 子信, a letter to my sons. Some things are hard to say out loud, so I wrote them down.
Then I changed it. And changed it again. And again. In the end Half a Step was recorded 100 times.
At one point I seriously went back and forth: One Step, or Half a Step? Until one day it came to me: half a step is closer than one step, but further than none.
Because once my kids are grown, I don't want to stand in front of them telling them which way to go. But I don't want to walk so far away that I pretend none of it is my business either.
So 子信 became Half a Step. It's for my two boys, and for every parent like me who wants their children to grow up, and secretly hopes they'll take it a little slower.