At first, I told myself nothing was seriously wrong.
He was texting less. Laughing less. When we talked, his answers became shorter, and the easy excitement I remembered seemed to be fading. I blamed the distance, the upheaval of divorce, and the difficult adjustment that came with everything changing at once.
Then the school called.
His grades were slipping. Teachers had noticed that he seemed distracted and unusually withdrawn. Hearing those words changed the way I looked at everything that had happened over the previous few months.
When he finally climbed into the passenger seat, he barely spoke.
I didn’t push him immediately. I simply sat beside him and gave him room.
Eventually, pieces of the truth began to emerge.
He had been trying to make everything seem normal. He was worried about upsetting his father. He didn’t want me to feel guilty or overwhelmed. So instead of asking for help, he had quietly taken on problems that were never supposed to belong to him.
There were nights when food at home was scarce. Bills were piling up. He was spending too much time alone and trying to convince everyone—including himself—that he could handle it.
He wasn’t being difficult.
Keep reading…