The Boy Who Felt Too Much
I worked double shifts.
I learned how to fix leaky sinks from YouTube videos.
I stayed up late Googling answers to questions about raising boys I didn’t feel qualified to answer.
And beneath it all was a constant undercurrent of fear.
That I was somehow failing him.
That the absence of a father-shaped presence would leave cracks I couldn’t see until it was too late.
Ethan grew into a boy who was quiet in a way that drew attention.
Observant in a way that made teachers pause mid-sentence.
He was emotionally perceptive beyond his years.
As though he felt the world more deeply than others…
But had learned early to keep those feelings folded neatly inside himself.
He wasn’t loud.
He wasn’t reckless.
He wasn’t eager to prove himself the way other boys were.
He watched.
He listened.
He carried a tenderness that both amazed and worried me.
Because the world is rarely gentle with boys who feel too much.
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