Valentine

I am laying in bed with my young man of choice, and we are discussing our respective day.

I have been trotting about doing what I describe as "Mum stuff." 

He has been hard at work, stuck at a desk for the best part of his waking day.  He is having the roughest of times at present. Weekdays are no longer pleasant or full of promise.  He dreads them to such a degree he has vomited from the fear of what unknown pressures he may have to endure that day.  Every day presents a new challenge, often seemingly insurmountable, yet he continues to try his best.

His ability to cope with his daily environment has been disintergrating since new year.  He is being bullied, and it is effecting his ability He knows things are wrong and there's nothing he can do.  He's spoken to someone at "the office" about it; his superior if you will. Nothing has been done; the bullies have been told to leave him alone, and he spends his lunch hours alone; often lonely, certainly confused, whilst they continue to associate together.

The quiet way he says all this; his description of how sad it makes him breaks my heart.  I am torn between the furious anger that makes me want to kick these bullies in the legs, the sadness that someone I love more than anything is in pain, and the knowledge that I cannot protect him.

I tell him that I love him. I hold him tight, and tell him he is my best friend and that that will never change.  He drifts off slowly, but as he is dozing, he turns to me.

"Mum, thank you for my heart cake today. I will always be your valentine you know."  With that, he drifts off, and I cling to the only man I will ever really love; my beautiful autistic son.