He has a problem. A very very serious problem.
He cares. Perhaps a little too much. But no one could stop him from caring.
He is criticized and laughed at and people point their dirty, cynical fingers at him while wearing that cheshire smile.
That didn’t stop him from caring.
His friends tease him, warn him, laugh at him. Are they really his friends? Perhaps. Perhaps not.
Well, are they?
He is waiting, wide awake at the bottom of an endless ocean of dreams. He knows that his dream is merely fantasy and wishful thinking.
Yet he’s wide awake.
He hopes that his friends will one day understand the pain and the frustration of caring. He hopes, he yearns.
He often asks “Why do I care so much? Why can’t I accept things the way they are?”
Because he cares. Cares a bit too much… No harm in caring, they say. Be happy, they say. Be grateful as long as they are happy, they say.
Don’t you want to be happy, my boy? The accept it. Accept the pain. Learn to live with the callous; then, and only then, will you be truly happy.
He never believed them, his heart is like a drum beating the word “care”, his heart tells him to break that stereotype.
Or has he gone mad?
Is it a combination of both?
He is alone. Very very alone.
Then comes a girl.
Never has he dreamed of finding such happiness. But this girl, she is his light, his world, his heart.
With her, he could care, he’s free as a dove in the bright, warm sunlight.
His friends questioned him, their curious glances never escaped him.
“Let them talk, West.”
She set him free, she erased the heavy clouds and the suffocating weight. He’s happy. He’s free at last.