Tears are streaming down Kenneth’s young face while I sit with him. “I’m sorry Dad,” he sobs. “Why am I like this?”
My arm goes around him. “You’re unique. You’re amazing and talented, but there’s a cost. The universe needs payment for your focus. For you, before it comes, there’s Anxiety. Fear. Doubt.”
He sniffles and leans into me. “That’s unfair.”
I hold him. “Yes, but I promise it’s worth it. You’ll get stronger.”
Silence for minutes, and then I see it overtake him. His eyes become calm and focused, and he wordlessly walks out the door.
Alone, I begin crying.