Walk with N at dawn. Last night N didn’t sleep well. Sour feet kept troubling him, interrupting his sleep. Too much exercise in the late afternoon that day. And most likely because of bad dreams—or bad memories.
Memories of being hit by me.
Regret. Heart tainted with remorse. Temper lost along with the loss of a football, followed by a greater loss of that part of me which would otherwise let me look straight into my own eyes.
The dawn was beautiful. Clouds assumed a chameleon life. A color magic. We walked and talked. Finally, I asked N to forgive me. Almost a moment of tears at least on my part. N smiled, saying he too has done something wrong. And he held my hand tightly and warmly.
I dare not explore what trauma I might cause, no, I must have caused in N. When the sunshine appeared to blaze the sky, I prayed, in full devotion and sincerity, that may god help me remember this moment. The first dawn I have ever welcome with N, and the last of my guilt and anguish as such.
N deserves my full love; I, however, am never so worthy of his as he ever thinks.
May the sun purge me of my guilt.
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