I found other pictures of me, and there was no doubt that the boy was me. I slumped on my bed and was very confused. Have I been so drunk in the last few weeks, that I could not recognise that the boy was me? I felt like a fool that I did not recognise the boy. I was also afraid as to how it was just me that could see him. Was this boy a figment of my imagination or was he haunting me? It could be that my spirit left me and the boy was simply the spirit that was telling me that I did not deserve one.
My mother fussed over me by making good food and always offering me tea. She was trying to make my stay as comfortable as could be. The woman had so much energy that she never sat down. Mom was a very religious woman and was so proud that her son was a priest. It gave her some status in the small town that we lived in. Besides filling me with food, mom wanted to invite all her friends and family to dinner. This was something that I did not want to do. However, I could not say no to her. She wanted to remind everyone that her son was a priest.
I could not stop thinking of the boy. Why was the younger version of me haunting me? There could only be one answer. I was going crazy. I found some beer and wine and drank all afternoon. It's not that I needed a drink or that my body was craving for it. I just wanted to escape the world and the way it was screwing with my mind. Within no time, I was tipsy and it was as if I was on top of the world.
I started remembering when I was a child. I did not have a lot of friends as I had no idea how to be cool. I also had an unshakeable faith and wondered why the other children never wanted to speak about God. They always wanted to speak about sports and music. These things did not interest me. I was more interested in understanding God and how we could be his friend.
Faith was so easy as a child. Things were simple and easier to accept. I always wanted to be a priest. I aimed to help people become closer friends with God. As a teenager, I wanted to bring social justice to the world. I wanted to make sure everyone had rights as a human and no one was hurt by others.
My dreams were shattered. The dreams I had as a child never happened.
The people that mom invited came. I stumbled to meet them and it was like they were like the boy. They were figments of my imagination. They were not mad when I nearly fell over or slurred my words or laughed too much. They tried their best at accepting that I was drunk. The whole thing ended with me falling asleep on the sofa while they continued socializing.
Somehow, mom helped me to the bed. The boy was sitting on the bed. I pretended not to see him as I knew that mom could not see him. He sighed and said sarcastically that "Mom was probably very proud that I was drunk in front of family and her friends."
Mom was not proud. The morning after she told me that we had to have a small talk.
"What has happened to you?" She asked. "You were drunk last night and despite it was embarrassing, people could not recognise you. You are a shadow of who you were and to be honest, It looks as if you have given up. You have gained too much weight and you drink and smoke too much!. You're falling apart. How could appear drunk yesterday? A priest is a role model. You were like a drunk idiot last night. Where is your pride as a priest? Where is your spirit? Are you a priest or an alcoholic?"
Mom did not pack things in. She was disappointed at what I have become. She thought I was an alcoholic. The rest of the stay with mom went fine. I still drank and smoked like a chimney, but there were no arguments or lectures from mom. She did her best to spoil me and make me feel as if I was still loved.
It's strange that Mom still treats me like a 10-year-old. It gave me a chance to think of what she said. The fact was that she was right. I was a priest but no longer had the spirit of a priest. I lost my wish to tell others about God and help them on their spiritual journey. I lost my ambition to make peoples lives better! I was now a middle-aged man that was not happy. I ate too much. I smoked too much. I was an alcoholic.
I was a broken man.
It was time to go back. Mom was in tears. She told me to find myself and she would always love me and be proud of me.
When I came home, Andrew was alone in the sitting room. I took a deep breath and apologised to him for the kiss.
"It's ok." he answered, "The fact is that If I was not wearing the collar of a priest, I would have loved to have a relationship with you. I am not perfect. I know I have homosexual tendencies. The kiss you gave me felt so good. I have suppressed these feelings for a long time. I was so confused after and I have prayed and prayed. I have taken a vow of celibacy and this means a lot to me. I cannot act from lust or what my body wants. I hope you understand why we could never have a relationship."
I nodded and told Andrew that I respected this and we could be good friends, without the sexual aspect.
I then went to the chapel. I must have sat there for hours. Then I concentrated on the cross. Jesus must have been in so much pain. Not only did he have the pain of hanging on the cross, but he was also humiliated and alone. I had tears coming down my face as I realized that Jesus did this for us. He went through torture and the worse death for our sins. This showed the love that he had for us. It was a love that no one could ever compete with and it was unconditional.
The boy was now sitting next to me and said, "When you were small and my age, you often prayed for the ability to see in the future and how you would serve God. In a way, this prayer was granted. Here I am and what I see is not good. You are a lost soul and are slowly destroying yourself. This is very hard for me to see. "
I lowered my head and covered it with my hands.
"Jesus did not just come for the good people." the boy said. "He came to help the lost and those who have turned their back on him. It is true that you are lost and that you are broken. You have the power to change this. Jesus wants you back. It will be hard to find yourself and find the mission that God has for you, but you will not be alone. Jesus is with you and holding your hand."
The boy disappeared and I looked back at the cross. I did not have a long prayer or use any fancy words. I asked God to help me.
Later that day, when we were eating dinner, Miss Brian asked me what wine I wanted to drink.
"Please just give me some water," I said, "and I would like to say something to my fellow priests."
They looked at me with annoyed faces.
"I am now a middle-aged man and had forgotten my ambitions as a priest. I have forgotten what my mission in life is. I have not been a good priest for a long time. I have become a glutton and alcoholic and I smoke too much. I am giving up alcohol and cigarettes, and it's about time that I go on a diet. This will be very hard for me. I need your help and prayers."
They all nodded, not knowing what to say.
"And Andrew," I continued, "I would like to help you in the children's choir and visiting the prison. Maybe you can help me with the sermon I have to give on Sunday"
Andrew smiled.
I was not cured, this was only words and the first step.
I saw the boy at the doorway. He was smiling as he slowly faded away. I knew I would not see him again, and if I did, I would no longer be a broken man.
The End319Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRuOd6nBegb
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