Maya Chen is an HR consultant with over 10 years of experience in performance management and organizational development.
For someone who's forfeited almost 40 years of his life as a result of a crime he had no involvement in, Peter Sullivan strikes a remarkably hopeful tone.
In our conversation last month, for what was his initial media appearance since being freed from prison in May, he was cheerful and excited about getting to Anfield to watch Liverpool play for the opening match since he was arrested in 1986.
That was the year of the sexual attack murder of Diane Sindall in his local community of Birkenhead - an occurrence he said he had limited information regarding because someone approached him in a pub at the time and said, "allegedly there's been a murder".
When he was found guilty the following year at Liverpool Crown Court - he was destined to a lifetime in some of Britain's toughest category A prisons where he would be tormented by his tabloid nicknames "Birkenhead's Monster", "The Mersey Ripper" and "Lunar Killer".
Prior to our discussion, he was abundant with tales about how since his exoneration he has had to adjust to a fundamentally altered world.
When he was arrested, Margaret Thatcher was in Downing Street, few knew about the internet and Europe was still divided by the Iron Curtain.
He explained watching the fall of the Berlin Wall from a public television in prison.
Mr Sullivan told me how trips to the shops now show how "the world has transformed" - from trying to figure out how self-checkouts operate to realising that "instead of having a cheque book, you've got it on your phone".
His confinement means he has been ignorant of the way so many elements of everyday life have evolved - almost like someone who has been unconscious since the 1980s.
"After spending so long in prison and discovering there's no DHSS [Department of Health and Social Security, now the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP)] where you can receive your money - you're thinking, 'Goodness, what's going on here?'"
He now has a mobile device, after discovering doctor's appointments need to be scheduled on something he now knows is called an 'mobile program'.
He first became familiar with them when he was traveling on a bus shortly after his release and saw people twiddling with smartphones. He only realised they were phones when he saw someone put one to their ear.
Mr Sullivan's 14,000 days in confinement have also led to an inevitable sense of system dependency.
He described how after his liberation, one morning in his flat he returned to his bedroom and positioned himself on his bed, because he was subconsciously waiting for a prison officer to come and lock him back into his cell.
"You've got to be at your door at a certain time, otherwise the officers will discipline you", he said.
"I found myself thinking, 'What's happening?'"
But Mr Sullivan's hope is balanced by a yearning for answers about how he ended up being charged with an notorious murder that he didn't commit, and a confusion about why he still has not had an admission of error.
"Everything is gone", he said.
"My liberty was taken, I lost my mother since I've been in prison, I've lost my father.
"It pains me because I was absent for them", he said.
"I can't carry on with my life if I can't get an response off them."
"That's all I want, an apology [and to understand] the explanation for they've done this to me", he said.
Merseyside Police said "there would be little benefit to be gained for a re-examination of this matter today" because of "advancements to investigative techniques and improvements in the law over the last 40 years".
The force did submit some of Mr Sullivan's allegations to the police watchdog, the Independent Office for Police Conduct (IOPC), who will now investigate his claims that officers beat him up and intimidated to link him to other crimes if he refused to admit to Diane Sindall's murder.
When asked if it would apologise, the force did not clearly address the question, but as part of a detailed response it said: "The force recognizes that there has been a significant injustice of justice in this case".
Mr Sullivan explained about his simple goal - an ambition that he said he had given up of being able to accomplish at some points over his nearly four decades behind bars.
"My only desire to do now is proceed with my own life and carry on as I was before, and experience freedom now".
His prospects may be made more manageable by government financial payment, paid to individuals affected of miscarriages of justice.
This scheme is capped at £1.3m, a cap which it is believed his eventual payout will get very close to.
But the procedure is not automatic, and it is time-consuming.
Andrew Malkinson, whose guilty verdict for a rape he had no involvement in was quashed in 2023, was only given an temporary payment earlier this year.
Convicted criminals who acknowledge their crimes and are freed get a accommodation and some support regarding living expenses. Mr Sullivan, as an wrongly convicted individual, is not entitled to that help.
And so he is living a simple existence, with his humble goals - although many consider he is a future wealthy man.
His attorney, Sarah Myatt, said "no sum that you could say that would be enough for sacrificing 38 years of your life".
Maya Chen is an HR consultant with over 10 years of experience in performance management and organizational development.