I don’t really “own” the saddest thing I think affects me the most. My best friend. In my eyes she is the strongest and most beautiful person- both inside and out – that i know. My best friend is my other half , and without her here, the world really does some bleaker, empty and full of a million, hurrying people who all seem like aliens. We both have plenty of other friends, but still nobody compares to her, nobody listens and understands like she does. Its not that we tell each other every single tiny details of our lives, its the fact we have a deeper, emotional almost soul-to-soul connection that binds us together no matter where we choose to go in life.
But my best friend suffers from depression. She’s had a tough childhood, and to this day the wounds have not healed to scars, but are still fresh, raw, stinging and open. My best friend had days where she doesn’t want to get out of bed, won’t eat or smile for days and become a total, unreachable,inconsolable stranger to me. When i look at her at times like this, she becomes a totally different person who i fail to recognize. Its at times like this where i wish i could to something i know is impossible – take her burdens and deal with them for her, just so she doesn’t ever have to fall through the bottomless put of sadness again. Times like this, i become scared to call her, or pop over to her house for fear that i may find her dead, hanging from the ceiling, or in some empty alley way somewhere trying to run and hide from her problems, but to no avail.
I make sure i tell my best friend every day how much i love her and how i wish she could see herself through my eyes so she can understand what an amazing individual she is, and how much she touches the lives of people around her with her sweet personality. Another part of me wants to hunt down and hurt the people who have destroyed her in the past, although i know we all endure hardships is our lives.
My best friend has tried to push me away on many occasions, claiming im way too “good for her”, but i stand there with my feet firmly rooted to the ground and i shall not budge till the day i die. I’m proud to call her MY BEST FRIEND, and not a day goes by where I don’t think how lucky I am that I’m the one who was chosen to be there with her.I Love You. Share Your Thoughts 
At the age of four my son was diagnosed as autistic, and this is the saddest thing in my life. Even now, after 7 years of trying my best to be a good parent to an autistic child, I don’t understand it with any great amount of clarity. I suspect one reason for this is I have yet to fully accept his condition. For me, autism is not something to be “celebrated”. My son cannot mediate reality. He cannot read faces. He cannot carry on a conversation unless he can insert lines he’s memorized from videos, filed away for future use. He relies on strict routine everyday. He does love music though – especially jazz and classical music. I should qualify this: the down-to-rock-bottom saddest thing in my life happens everytime I think of the future when he no longer has his parents to look after him, when he will be alone in the world (only child). N. has no friends; the therapy centre is way over on the other side of town. Having an autistic child sets you apart even more than usual; it’s basically the three of us – my wife, our son, and me. We are an island of three. He is happiest when he is sitting at his desk in the living room writing page after page of blurbs copied from DVD boxes or acting out scenes, line by line, from his favorite shows with various plush toys. But what will he do with himself when his parents have passed away? Where will he live, and will people there care for him – or will they demand things of him he will not be able to do? Will he in any way be loved? I am trying hard to save money to leave him, so that he will have some financial resources. Whatever his life is like after I die, I will not be a witness to it, for better or worse. I pray to God to shepherd him – he really is a beautiful soul.
Tags: autism, fatherhood, onlychild
The saddest “thing” I own is my child….he’s severely impaired by autism. It pains me to look at him each day and remember the hopes and wishes I had for us that will never be realized. He’s 15 years old and I have never heard the words “I love you mom” and I never will. There are no high school football games for him to play in, no first date, no prom, no wedding, no children of his own. Each day I wake up and have to realize these things yet again; the pain is always there like the bogeyman in the closet. Most of the time you don’t see him but he’s always there waiting in the dark.