A Wolf at the Door.

I’ve never been the one to flaunt a clean bill of health; mainly because I’ve never had the opportunity to do so. You see, I’m not the fresh-faced student that receives the year-end perfect attendance award. No Christmas bonus will ever alleviate my family’s holiday spendings, for this body will never fend off disease for a yearly duration. But I don’t request all your thoughts, sympathy, or goodwill intentions. You see, I’m selfish and not always deserving of such. A kind gesture or light inquiry is all I desire or deserve. The constant pains I endure are not all brought upon by myself, but I’m not exactly breaking a sweat to take the best care of myself either. You see, I’ll never be confused as your considerate friend or your healthy brother or your innocent son. I’m not pulling the wool over anyone’s eyes on this, it’s fact and shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. However, I have lately been receiving your thoughts, sympathy, and goodwill intentions. I have friends altering their own actions and rutted behaviors to aid my debilitated movements. I have siblings (one of true relation) exclaiming for me to take better care of myself and stating that they will provide any necessary support to see that I do. I have my parents concerned and offering aid, and friend’s parents praying for my health in the most sacred places in the most sacred of lands! Thank you. Thanks so much, but please suppress some of this concern. Don’t get me wrong, all of this attention has helped, I’m just not deserving of it all. I mean, if roles were reversed would I be providing this kind of support or attention? I hope that I would, but I’m just not sure how selfish I really am.