I lost someone. He was a student of mine. I'm a professor. I knew him before that- since he was a boy. His mother died and left him alone. I...tried to look after him. I didn’t do it because I was trying to be some saint. I did it out of guilt. I hurt him in ways that I couldn’t even admit in this room. I just couldn’t leave him alone. And I know why. I lost a baby. In a car accident. But...it was much worse than that. I just couldn’t keep him out of my head. I mean, I would just... worry if he did his homework, or if he had any friends. And on Christmas, it would just make me sick worrying if he even had any presents. I... I told myself to stay away. What was broken in me was broken. No one could fix it. And then I did the opposite. I took him into my life, into my home. He needed someone to look after him, someone to love him, and I wanted to be that person. I wanted to protect him. I tried so hard. All I did was ruin him. I mean, if I had just left him alone, he would’ve been fine. But I just..just wanted to...wanted to love him, wanted to hold him tight, wanted to keep him safe. This boy, my student, who was really just a stranger to me. That’s a lie. He wasn’t just a stranger.
136 notes
·
View notes