Diary entry 2: Son's 12th birthday

Today is my Son's 12th birthday. I have somehow managed to convince him to accompany me to the theatre, to watch a production of Shakespeare's As You Like It. I'm extremely surprised he has consented; he rarely comes home from his boarding school, and when he does decide to return to his home, he rarely converses with me at all, only to ask if there are any new materials in the library, or for some kind of sustenance. It is increasingly..... Annoying that he has decided to live out his days in some form of solitary confinement. I have so much to offer the boy, least of all being his father. Yet he is determined to keep his distance, possibly due to the "dismissal" of his mother as it were.

I never intended to have her leave me and him. Quite frankly her simplicity was, in my opinion, her most attractive quality besides her natural beauty. I didn't think that I would ever become tired of it. It made intellectual conversations a trial, yes, but I never expected to have her leave because of it. But then I never intended on her meeting my secretary either. Yet when they did, and when I saw that, after convincing her to help out with the business, they would develop a connection. It was exasperating, watching the two of them share a laugh, or a look or even a smile. It began to infuriate me to te point of desperation. And then it occurred to me that it was impacting on her as well. I was much more dismissive, more blunt and rude even. It wasn't fair on either of us, but certainly on her. So, after I sent my Son away, I sent her away too. To my secretary to liberate her soul as well as mine from this agony. My Son still hates me for it but I'm sure he will understand in due course.

The show is over and we have returned to this torture filled chasm that is my home. Tonight was full of surprises, however. I saw him laugh at the follies of Touchstone and even marvel at the speeches of Jacques. When we returned home he even uttered " I enjoyed that Father. It was..... Scintillating." Before he returned to his room, to begin his vigil again. I don't suppose that I will develop a relationship better then this with him. Yet this memory will remind me that somewhere, deep within our souls, there is something close to love and respect. I hope one day that we our hearts can expand enough to develop the capacity to feel that.