I watch him move and shift in his skin, trying to find the way it fits, but he can not. Not yet. Not now. So he lashes out at the world, because to lash out at himself would mean his implosion. Do not let his anger scare you: he is simply shouting at the demons that sleep in his bed, crawl into his head. Just give him space to spew. Douse his impatience with patience, and help him laugh at his idiosyncrasies’. And his bitterness, just let it fall from his lips, for that is better than letting it stew in his heart, for a heart filled with bitterness will only grow brittle and wither away.
Just watch him as he moves, as he squirms to find his place, watch him as he questions and give him space to breathe. He is exorcising his demons, leave him be, leave him be.
Just love him, from as close as he will allow you to get, love him unconditionally. And show him he is loved, and leave him signs along the path, so he can find his way home...
©Toni Stuart, May 2008, London
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