He’s literally screwed into my side on the futon. His fifty-four inch scrawny naked body is all angles and and sharp points. But it feels good. My boy.
“Yeah, thanks Noah, I went to bed early. It helps.”
Yesterday was a nightmare Monday.
He did everything wrong and I noticed everything he did wrong. Worse, I told him everything he did wrong.
I snapped at having to tell him again what I’ve told him again and again on a daily basis for what seems to be for ever. He needs to do better and not expect me to tell him when to put his socks on in the morning, for example.
But yesterday, it was all about me. I was fighting through the wind tunnel of my self -induced misery. I felt like raging and I felt like hell and everywhere I looked I saw sadness or anger or ugliness. Often all three.The best I could do was to not ‘do’ because I would have done harm.
That was me. Noah was just the guy in the way.
“I’m sorry, dad, I wasn’t like you know, not helping. You told me that you were having a hard day and that you didn’t like, ehm, want to tell me what to do, so you said, ‘uh, try Noah just to stay calm and do what you have to do’. And I didn’t. Sorry. ”
“And I’m sorry I was so angry.”
“Its ok, dad, sometimes it happens to me. I don’t control myself. You know, I don’t think and I do dumb things.”
My problem is I think too much, but in circles that grow ever tighter and more painful, and repeat over and over the same noise until I feel like going crazy, for relief.
I need to grow a pair….of those guy things. Fight my way back to self-belief.
Noah is in snuggle paradise. “Dad, you’re so soft and warm and its like you have boobies with hair.”
Yup, I grew a pair of those ever since his mother left us, a few years ago.
Now, for a pair of those guys things…rat sized. Yup, rats b…. dozens of times bigger than their human counterparts.
What’s the message there, hunh?