I am dreaming dreams for you. I am thinking about how you and I can be friends. I want to mow the grass with you. I want to play soccer with you. I want to blow big bubbles with our gum and let them pop on our noses. I want to fix the house, the car, your toy, all with you by my side.
I remember times when I was helping my daddy and he got frustrated with me because I didn’t do it right. I remember how that felt inside in my heart. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now.
I can see your heart in your eyes. I can see when I hurt your feelings. I’m sorry. I love you so much. I don’t know why I get so frustrated sometimes. I guess, if I’m honest, I am getting frustrated at the little boy that I was and getting mad at that boy. Why couldn’t he just do it right and make his daddy happy? Why did he have so many feelings? Why? I look at that little boy and wish he didn’t have to feel those things. And it makes me sad that what I am wanting is for you not to feel. Not to feel sad. Not to feel happy, angry, lonely, joyful. It is easier for me to love me as a little boy when I am not faced with who I really was.
But here is the problem, I love who you are. I don’t want you to change. I watch desperately as I try, uncontrollably, to make the real you go away, all the while wondering what I am doing to make you so frustrated with me. Why am I not trying to bring the little boy inside of me back to life? Is it possible to teach that boy that it is ok to feel? Can I teach him that by watching you? Can your feelings be the catalyst for my emotional recovery?
You are so smart and witty. You are clever and imaginative. You are unrestrained by “should”. You are also selfishly motivated. But so am I. Selfishness is not a childish trait but a human one. That being the case, what is the difference between you and me? You have Jesus. I have Jesus. You have ideas. I have ideas. You have love to give. I have love to give. You have me and I have you, I just come with more baggage than you. I’m trying, little man. I’m trying.