I just met him prior to a great romantic upheaval in my life. I still
sensed (in all my turmoil & that shit) that he wasn't a waste of time.
His choleric dad (I think of him as a priest devoted to becoming the
patron modern saint of attention to detail.) wasn't a disincentive
enough, his cute as a button sister (old enough to be a mom, still a
shorty. Figure that out yourself.) couldn't distract. He had
characteristics that I could recognise with.
He lived ahead of his age: He was burdened with an advanced maturity
that his actual age constantly broke through, making him look
inconsistent & childish (what else would you expect).
He had a high I.Q. : and by God's grace, still does. He could read
patterns, people, progress, outcomes, and was academic lounge lizard.
He was lazy with school & couldn't tell just how lazy he was. (His dad
was determined that he wouldn't have to find out a decade too late.)
It was the laziness that very intelligent or very stupid people have,
as a necessity, from living outside (ahead or behind) the 'normal joe'
curve. He was so ahead, he treated school work like an adult cat with
a ball of yarn. He knew what social behaviour demanded of him, so he
attempted to make it entertaining for himself. When he needed to take
it more serious, it was painful process. Imagine being bow-legged late
into your adolescence & your parents tell you, "your legs need to be
splintered and reset so you can have the straight legs we expect of
you. And you're the one who has to break them"?
Needless to say, he ran away from home.
Just kidding. He did it. He hurt himself by rewriting his entire
behaviour pattern. It took a long time, cost him peace of mind, spats
with his demanding dad, and now he has a very great reward. He's like
his dad. Not a bad thing. I'm sure I made him look like an ogre, but
he's not. He just won't tolerate bullshit poured down his throat and
you tell him it's pepsi. He will give you a tongue lashing that would
burn out a star tripping on...star dust?
Anyway, this is about Yemi. Yemi is tough. I've seen him personify the
1st line of the second stanza of Coldplay's song Lost. And I'm seeing
him do it again. The first time I was mad because I was helpless, but
I couldn't show it. It might have killed his spirit. Now, I'm not mad.
Not in the least. He's just waiting till the shine wears off. He
doesn't pet his bruises, they'll go. They'll wear off.
I love him. We would have been a scary pair had we been actual
siblings. Endoderm, caramel, & strange. Ectoderm, dark & strange.
Neither unfriendly or aloof (unless it made us look cool.)
I'm his as he needs me to be. That's the nature of true friendship.
Not self-seeking. His great cooking is not a motivation for me. I can
boil me some water too, y'know.
So Yemi, welcome. Welcome to the next gear in being human, fallible &
I trust you'll survive this curve. We both know you will.
--
Sent from my mobile device
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