Dreaming of Him

 

He was a small boy once.. he missed his mother when he was at school. He was different than many of the other children, from a different culture..his skin was dark. They were not used to him, the small little brown boy..who was sensitive but kind. They ignored him..because they just didn’t know what to do with him. He watched them play in groups..he watched as the birthday invitations were passed out..but most of the time he was not invited. He longed to belong.. being shunned was the worst part. He longed to be heard, to be seen to be loved by them. He would rush home to his mother, to his culture..he would burst through the door to throw himself into her arms ; to press his cheek against her warm skirts that smelled like her cooking. He would nestle himself into his mother’s lap to listen to the sound of her heartbeat.. like he did as a baby. How he longed to fit in… his mother’s love comforted him from the pain of social rejection.

 

It was deeply rooted in him to belong..he decided as a young child that he would learn about people.. he would find out about everyone of them..and he did. He learned about human nature. He learned about love and belonging..he learned how to manipulate them with sweetness.. but it was not to hurt them.. never to hurt them; it was so they would never hurt him again..because he would make them see the love that was in him ..and he did.. he was successful!

 

He grew into a man that glowed with power.. he told them all how to be the best they could be..he gave them advice about how to be successful..and they were..but somehow along the way he got lost.

 

He found that he had built walls around himself.. he couldn’t find away to drop the social mask. He had trapped himself in his own perfection..and slowly he lost the path to his heart. He had money, status, and some fame.. he had external power..but somehow his flame was being smothered..because he had forgotten to build a window in his glass house.

 

Today this day he is in intense pain.. he can no longer deny.. he can no longer lie to himself.. by searching outside of himself .. he had lost the key to his own heart; an now this day … his heart is empty..his mind is busy and heavy.. his flame burning so low.. but there is no one to turn to.. as he is surrounded by those who believe the story he told himself that he told to them .. that he knows all the answers..but now he eats his ego slowly alone.. a quiet long death.

 

He eats his pride, he eats his success, but he is not filled.. he hurts but he cannot cry out to them.. he cannot cry out. Now he sees he is still the small boy that was misunderstood, neglected and ignored..because he didn’t embrace that he was different..they still don’t see him.

 

But sweet man..with the tender, tender heart.. you will transform in your death and in your darkness.

 

As I write this you must know that I am the key to your heart..I love you, I have always loved you.. I always will.

I am waiting for you to come to me .. I will keep your secrets forevermore.

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