A man once told me the measure of a man.
He told me a man is a man who provides for his family.
I pondered in myself, but what if a man doesn’t have a family to provide for?
What if he just has friends and his loved ones? What if he isn’t truly a man yet?
I made my own definition of a man, a man for me is the person who will protect his family with his last bit of strength when they are harmed, and he will fight for them but still care for them at the same time.
He will lead them to the right path for themselves; he will provide and take away when necessary.
He will love and defend. Most importantly he is the man who will listen to you when there is no one else, he will scold you when it is right, and he will try his best to never stop until it’s over.
Then I began to wonder, what If I had that man in my life? What if my father was there for me?
Would I be so repressed, and naïve? What if he was here when I was depressed and alone? What if he was here when I wanted to die? What if he saved me? Would I be this young man who has to carry on a legacy he knows nothing about? Would I be here right now living with my grandmother? Would I still be father-less, in the physically form and support form. What if he came to my games? What if he taught me how to fight? What if he taught me to ride a bike, maybe even swim? What if he was alive still would he be able to teach me the things I know now? He couldn’t because I no longer need a father figure; I am just another living example of just another boy with a sad story and no lover. When I was a child I used to pretend I was dreaming and my mother was still with me and my father too, sadly.
I still wish I was dreaming even up to now. I still dream