I am 16,
still a child,
but wanting to be a man.
Trying to understand
what being a man means,
and I have you, Dave,
as my example.

We began years ago,
you and I,
when I was a child of 10.
Wounded already by my father, mother,
and soon to be wounded by others.
You're seeing it all,
all those wounds,
and understanding
how broken I am becoming.
A broken boy.

You're kind to me
in all the ways my father isn't.
I want to call you "Father",
to be your son,
I want to be
whatever you want me to be.
And I want you to be
what I need you to be.

We talk about sexual things,
you give me porn, red wine, and time,
and this 16 year old broken boy
gets broken even further.
You touch me
in ways that others have before you.
But I don't care,
it's what guys do together.

Can you see how I love you, Dave?
Can you see how broken I am?
You always know what to say,
know what I need to hear,
you're always working on the broken boy.

You don't love me, Dave.
You can't just love
the broken boy
for what he is.

You had no right, Dave.
No right.

Eddie,

Very Powerful. I'm beginning to agree more and more with the gorgeous one when he expounds the virtue of poetry. This poem speaks in ways that words alone cannot.

I know of the struggle behind these words, and I am moved with compassion for the boy, and the man who so recently penned them.

Lots of love,

John

Eddie,



Right there's the cruelty of it all, isn't it? All you needed was a safe adult friend to help you along your way to adulthood. Just someone to look up to and ask, "Am I doing this okay?" 16 is such a vulnerable age. Why was that too much to ask?

I feel your pain, bro. Thanks for sharing this with us and I hope writing it helps you as you deal with your memories of Dave. Just remember that the failing was his 100%, not yours.

Much love,
Larry

Powerful poem. I know the feeling of wanting to call somebody my father, worshipping him and realizing he is not my father, never will be, hurting so much from the consequences.

thanx for sharing your heart.

All our lives we look for it, Eddie. All our lives. We keep thinking that we'll find it....we'll find that guy who can fill that hole. And the only person who can understand the search....the need.....is someone on the same search, with the same need. And no matter how old we get, someone is always there who senses the need and is ready to take advantage of it. And you know what, Eddie, we don't deserve that. Ain't nobody sweeter and kinder than who we were then, or nobody more honest and loving than who we are now. All we ever wanted was someone to help a little boy feel loved for who he was.....just for being.....like everyone derserves. Only some people don't ever get that. They're the truly injured ones. They're the ones who can never understand. And no matter how many of 'em get me, and how many people tell me that hole can never be filled. I ain't never given' up, Eddie. Not 'till I die. Bobby

Thanks, guys, I appreciate you hearing me with this. It means a lot to me.

Eddie,

Hold onto this thought:



It really is all about that: listening to a brother's poem as an expression of who he is. The poem means nothing without Eddie, but everything with him.

Much love,
Larry

Damn right, he didn't!

I wish Dave could read that!

Rob,



Your post made me smile because it brought to mind a very cool image: 16 yo Eddie and 5-6 of us from the site showing up at Dave's door. Eddie reads his poem and then says to Dave: "My friends here will now explain to you what that poem means..."

Much clobbering,
Larry

Thanks, guys. Larry - that's a cool visual because I know you guys understand it so well.

I re-read this poem last night, it's the first time I've re-read it since I wrote it and posted it. As I re-read it, there were a couple of places that still really evoked an intense emotional response from me, made the tears well up. They were:



I felt a lot of hurt when I read that, hurt that someone I liked and admired so much was seeing all this happening, understanding full well how vulnerable I was (he was a psychologist by trade), and yet he used that vulnerability to exploit me. What a fucking betrayal.



As I read that, it made me remember all the ways I was a failure to my real father. All the ways I never could measure up, all the ways I would never be "acceptable". That hurts to think about, because I know there was really very little I could do to change that way of thinking in him. Basically, it's the "It's not my fault" thing, but that still doesn't make it hurt very much less.

Eddie,

You were always 100% okay bro, as a little boy, as teenager Eddie, and now as adult Eddie. Abusers and toxic people come in all forms, including as relatives and even as fathers. You shouldn't feel you ever had to measure up - it was HIS job to nurture you, care for you, and make you feel special and important, with no conditions. Why? Because that's what being a Dad is all about.

You know that because you're that kind of Dad yourself. Turn this around, Eddie. Look at it and tell yourself that even against the odds and through all the hurt and repeated betrayals you STILL fought on to become the kind of guy ANY kid would love to have as a father. What can be more important than that? What achievement could be greater?

Much love,
Larry