there, there, son...

He supposes there was never a particular moment in time at which he could look in the mirror and say that the person he was looking at was no longer a child. He never really believed it. After all, what was there to
convince him? There was no public rite of passage, no sage wisdom given by any man who had walked the path before and had enough self-consciousness to articulate it to him. As far as his heart knew, he was still a boy.

A scared, small, needy and insecure boy.

That is what he has been afraid of. Afraid that people would see past the facade and discover that he was only a boy. After all, out of necessity, he had learned what needed to be done in order to appear grown-up. He knew how to 'be responsible' how to interact with others and take care of business. But deep inside, a profound fear....a dark uncertainty and fragility.

if they really knew me, they would see that i am none of this. They would not take me seriously...worse, they would not love me....

Of course he knew that a child could be loved. But that is not the love that he wanted, that he knew he needed. He wanted that love that was mature, wise, giving, knowing, intimate....

if they really knew me.....

People could look at his life and see that he had pursued a life that was more or less normal. He was a capable, educated, thoughtful person. Yet they did not know that much of his efforts had been spent avoiding adulthood. Avoiding risk, avoiding those relationships and environments that would challenge him to grow in maturity and wisdom and responsibility becasue he was afraid that if he entered into those, his facade would crumble and he would be abandoned by the people he cared about.

He had a deep affection for many people. A high respect. A thoughtful compassion. But love? Love is what is given through sacrifice, what emerges through conflict and failure-- the fruit of patience and risk.

Who had ever taught him this love?! Who had been there to model it? No one had. The love of his parents was awkward, even superficial. They were scared to give and show love, too. Love was well-intentioned symbolic gestures. Gifts, trips, physical care and nurture. But it was aloof, and unsure of itself.

This was the love that was modelled for him.

It was the love a boy could always understand.