What Do You Know (You’re Just a Kid) Ch. 33

I might have been “just a kid,” and I might not have known much, but I did know how important it was to laugh and smile.
I knew that it meant the world to me to have a good time and special moments with the people I loved.
I knew that I was young or “just a kid,” but at the same time, I knew that the world was a great big place. I knew there were things to do and places to see. I knew that life comes with its priorities but at a young age, I also recognized that life can cause us to confuse our priorities.
For example, when someone is too busy, is there a worry that perhaps we are not important enough?
When someone forgets to call us, where does this place on the priority scale in their life?

I used to think that I was losing my place to so many other things. But no, this was just life and like I said to you before, life has a funny way of teaching us lessons.

I might have been “just a kid,” but I knew the value of your attention.
I knew that a kite could fly in the sky and I knew there were things that people should do together like when a father and son go fishing or camping or make memories that last a lifetime.
I knew these things were valuable, even back then.

I knew what a hero is. I knew that the sun would come up and then go down. I knew all about the stories my Grandmother used to tell me when I was small.
I knew that simple things, like Mom’s cinnamon toast and a cup of her hot cocoa was a different version of penicillin.
I can say this was so with Mom’s mashed potatoes and her chicken cutlets as well. I can say that these things had healing powers—no differently than love and attention have healing powers.
And that’s the trick. Love and attention are beyond any measure.
Love and attention is warm, like a bowl of soup on a cold day.
This is refreshing, like the feel of Grandma’s hand when she brushed hair over your ear or touches the side of your face, which is like the feeling of a nice cool breeze across your face on a hot summer’s day.

I know that being acknowledged and validated and counted and included are amazing things to experience. The joy that comes with this is enough to pump the heart and make us smile.
I know that this helps the soul—but wait, what about the fear of loss?
What does this do to the soul?
What about the worry that comes when love or attention seems to vanish or disappear?
What about the worry that love and attention are either short or only temporary?
What then?
What happens to the high?
Is this no different from the high of a drug and its crash when the drug wears off?
In fact, I think this is an excellent comparison and still, not even the best brand of heroin or any other narcotic can match the true bliss of innocent and purified truth, that love can conquer all. Indeed, love is the most powerful and unmatchable thing in this world.

I can say that I know about the highs of both a drug and the high from someone’s love and attention—and I know what this is like which, for the moment, is like nothing else is wrong and no one else exists.
Everything is light and free, or summery, like a soft white cloud that pillows and curls across the background of an ongoing and excessively clear blue sky.
This is beautiful. No, wait.
This is pure and wonderful.
This is love and care and attention at its purest.

This is what it’s like when the sky is smiling at you—and yes, this is what it’s like to feel so good or so high or euphoric that you never want to come down. The high is so big and overwhelming that you never want your feet to touch the ground.
You never want to come down or become common or commonplace or be like anyone else, or like some poor bastard who sits alone and is otherwise loveless.
You want the high. You want the love and the bliss.
But it’s the crash that gets us. It’s the re-entry or coming back down. It’s the way reality sort of resumes and cruelties come back into consideration.
But no one wants this.
Nobody wants to come back down, as if to re-enter the atmosphere, which is far from lofty or free or weightless.

Nothing feels as good as the bliss of euphoria. Hence, this is why no one wants to re-enter the world or come back to reality, which is that yes, the sun and the stars, the moon and the word are all things that act on their own and as much as we thought or believed for the moment—none of these things revolve around us.
However, we all want that feeling, or the permanent smile, or the weightless and soft appeal that comes with the rhapsody of love, care and ongoing attention.

And a smile?
God, I know this works wonders on the soul.
A smile can be lifesaving and yes, the absence of one can be equally devastating too.
I know that a smile or the acknowledging touch of someone when they put their hand on your shoulder, or a moment that comes with a hug or any other acknowledging gesture, as if to say, “I got you,” is an amazing and redeeming thing.
To be known or touched and wanted, or to be important to someone and included and referred to, as if to be more than just an integral piece of their life—but not just that, to be truly seen or appreciated and valued is like a ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark or sunless place.

I swear it.

At this point, I must quote another hero of mine.
This quote hits home.
This hits home for many reasons but mainly this quote hits home because it’s true.
The quote is from Robin Williams:
“I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.”
Yes, I agree.
I can say that I know what love is. I can say that I knew this when I was “just a kid.”
I know what its like to feel weightless or absolutely high, or so elated or joyful because of someone in your life—and yes, I know and understand the absence of all the above.
I know the fears of not having that sense of relief or that level of intimacy. I know about the wasted feeling inside when someone is no longer there because when they were there, they left a feeling that not only acknowledged the heart, but proved to the soul that not only do we exist but, in fact, we actually matter, This is what it means to be in love or to mean so much to someone that part of the world spins, just so we can connect and coincide with each other’s life.
This is the best high of all.
And it’s real.
And it’s free too.
But then again, love can be very costly, if we forget to share it properly.
I’ve know this for a very long time

I do believe in the beauty of attention. And yes, that’s what I knew when I was “just a kid.”
I knew about the innocent joys of putting a puzzle together or being silly or playing a game.
But again, I say that age comes along and somehow, we lose to a theft of services.
We lose to an idea or to a socially constructed conclusion that youth is only allowed to be youthful until a certain age and, of course, that’s when some asshole comes along and tells you to “act your age.”

I see the world now and the kids who are only beginning their trips around the sun. I see what they have in front of them and no, I can’t say that I understand them or the new cultures.
I can say that I felt similarly about a few things when I was young.
But I don’t know what it’s like to grow up in this era. I don’t know what the social draws are like now and I don’t know about their fashions, nor do I listen to the music of today, or understand the social politics of being a kid.

Hell, I thought by this time, the year 2024 would be seen with flying cars and people living in futuristic establishments. In some cases, the future has advanced in ways—like video chats and cell phones.
I remember pay phones and rotary phones.
But still, none of that matters now.
The world is a different place from what it was.
There was no such thing as cyber-bullying or the internet when I was a kid. There were car phones and I do remember cellular phones too, but they were huge and clunky.
Nowadays, people have phones in their watches.
Who’d a thought this would be where we are?
Not me.

But again, none of that matters.
I don’t know what it’s like to grow up with gender arguments or genderless bathrooms, which, please and before we go onward, my intention is not to support or oppose any of these arguments—but instead, my aim is to show the differences in the culture.

I don’t know what it’s like to grow up now. However, I do know what it was like with me. More to the point, I understand what it was like for me to believe that there was something wrong with me or that there was something so odd or strange or that I was so absolutely different that I couldn’t make it or fit in with the common day’s society.
My gender had nothing to do with this. But while the challenge might be different, I believe there is a core of understanding that seems to be overlooked.
However, regardless of my core or where my challenges came from, I do know the value of being loved and wanted.
I know the value of being accepted or loved or that high you get when you fit perfectly with someone, as if all sides of your puzzle seem to mesh somewhere, and you fit.
I swear, a high like this does not compare to anything else.
There is no comparison to being loved nor is there anything matchable to the bliss of being wanted or needed, invited and included.
I swear, a high like this is so loving and so perfect; however, my fears of the crash of the high going away or vanishing or that worry of my disappearing worth was real.
This was so real and so valid that I was always too afraid to share my sunshine because in my best estimation, love eventually fades, people leave, good things go away and happiness is only a temporary thing.

I offer this as a means to share my truths, but also, I mentioned the name Benjamino to you.
We spoke about this yesterday, remember?
This name goes back with me to when I was small. This goes back to my time as a toddler. This is also an analogy, understand?
This is a comparison because the name dates back to a time of love and purity. This dates back to when I received all the attention I could imagine—but attention fades and often so does the purity we find (or seek) and hence the sense of rejection takes our belief in new directions. This leaves us with a thought that perhaps we are not as important or as valuable as we were before.
Maybe we were just a stupid kid and believed in a fairytale.
(Get it?)

Little kids look up at their parents and they see love or at least they are supposed to.
They look up to the people who upon their entry into this world, it is the womb and the comfort which sort of dissolves or it is removed from our soul in layered fashion.
The purity blurs and with each realization, an idea of loss comes to mind—and suddenly, we start to think that maybe we’re just not that important anymore. Maybe we never were.
Maybe we were just a stupid kid who believed the moon was made of green cheese.

And man . . . that sucks.
I used to believe in magic. I used to believe in fairytales. I believed in lullabies and the man on the moon, the tooth fairy, and more. . .
But age comes along and pulls a theft of purity.
In my case, a sixth grader named Fred bullied me and hit me in the face with a snowball at the bus stop.
He called me a stupid kid because I thought the tooth fairy was real.
But what did I know—
I was just a kid, right?
I know that I’d rather believe like I did when I was kid.
Why wouldn’t I?
I would rather regain a sense of purity and enjoy the simple things, like the up and down from a seesaw or the “wheeee” sound a kid makes when they go down a slide, or the rush that comes when the wind is in your face, your little legs are running as fast as they can, and the kite in your hand is taking off into the sky while your Father is cheering you on or running beside you.

I want my joy back.
I don’t care so much about the tooth fairy anymore.
Besides, I think I’d like to keep my teeth.
Instead, I think I want my appreciation for wonder and dreams.
I want to go back to that feeling I had, which is so small now because age comes in and blurs our memory.
I want that feeling of hearing The Old Man calling out “Hey Benjamino,” from the other room.

I want the joy of someone’s touch, so pure and so meaningful, and so absolutely unconditional—as if to place me outside of the atmosphere, high as ever, and never again would I fear the loss of love because, at last, I learned that real love is alive and always constant.
No matter what comes or happens, nothing in the world is comparable to the feel of someone’s heart or someone’s care or someone’s attention. Just so you know that when it comes to you, nothing in the world is more valuable than the feel that comes over me when you smile—because like Williams said, I know what it’s like to feel the absence of a smile and with all of my heart, I would never want you to feel that way ever again.

I might not have known much as a kid, and I might not know much right now either.
But I do know this:
Nothing in the world can compare to the bliss of a smile or the feel of your hand.
This is a better high than any other.
So—
Please believe me. You are far more lifesaving than you think.