I love him so much. I watch him sleep and all I can think about is how much I just want to snuggle up beside him and kiss his feathery soft hair. Some nights I do and some times he even knows I am there. It's better than trying to hug him when he is awake and aware. It's those moments when he pushes me away that my heart breaks. He spit in my face last night. He told me he hoped I would die in the middle of the store. Strong words and strong actions from a very angry young man. He gets it out the only way he can. His disappointment , his rage and his fear all scream from his fingertips towards me with speed nothing short of a bullet train. I can't ever get out of the way fast enough.
I love him so much I want to make his world gum drops and candy canes. I want him to see the wonder around him and enjoy the smell of dinner. I love him so much I want to carry the burden for him, I want to make it ok. I want to protect him from the snow that falls in winter and the nasty comments strangers make about us behind our backs. I love him so much I want to hug him and have him enjoy hugging me back every time. I don't want it to be like Russian Roulette, wondering if the next time will be the time he punches me in the gut again.
I love him so much I want him to know and understand that when he says mean things it makes me sad and he does know but he doesnt understand. I love him so much I would walk through a bear cave on the first day of Spring carrying food if it meant he wouldn't have to fight the demons that chase him. I would do anything if it meant that he could just sit quiet inside his head with out the darkness finding him. I would trade my every breath if it meant that he could just live and love and breath without the constant dfear and fight inside him.
Because , you see, I love my son.
So tonight I sit and watch as he sleeps. I gently touch his feather soft hair, the color of straw, brushed across his forehead (except where he cut it at school). I kiss is soft doughy cheeks, his long dark lashes and nuzzle his neck with my nose. I whisper to him how much I love him, that he is my Super Sammy. I whisper how happy I am that I have such a great boy and slip from his room before the tears take over because he doesn't like being wet. I stand outside his room and I cry and I pray that somehow he will find relief. Then I sit here to write and pour out my heart because there is nowhere else that can contain the racing horses inside of me. I love my son with the fierceness that is everything I ever thought I could never be. I love my son.