the young man pt. 2
The young man's eyes burned with hurt indignation as he spoke of the father who left him.
A young boy of eleven with trees to climb, forts to build, and girls to love found it hard to understand the pain he felt inside when the older man wasn't around anymore to tell him he loved him and that he was a champion, a tiger, a wild man, and that he had what it took.
The young man squinted his eyes and gave a half-smile, and told me that the only thing he thanked his father for was the sperm that helped create him. And he continued to speak of the man who didn't care to remember his son's birthday twenty years down the road, the man who didn't care to remember the birthdays of his second set of sons, the man who was always making promises, who was always going to be back later, who was going to make it up to him, the man who left his wife, two daughters, and son, Will, alone to go find what he thought was himself, but what turned out to be just smoke and bull-shit.
The young man wiped his mouth on a napkin and then took another bite of his burger.
A young boy of eleven with trees to climb, forts to build, and girls to love found it hard to understand the pain he felt inside when the older man wasn't around anymore to tell him he loved him and that he was a champion, a tiger, a wild man, and that he had what it took.
The young man squinted his eyes and gave a half-smile, and told me that the only thing he thanked his father for was the sperm that helped create him. And he continued to speak of the man who didn't care to remember his son's birthday twenty years down the road, the man who didn't care to remember the birthdays of his second set of sons, the man who was always making promises, who was always going to be back later, who was going to make it up to him, the man who left his wife, two daughters, and son, Will, alone to go find what he thought was himself, but what turned out to be just smoke and bull-shit.
The young man wiped his mouth on a napkin and then took another bite of his burger.