Stuck with a Punk ✔

No. 81.: Stalker

Devon's change in behaviour truly is terrifying. At first, I thought he was simply being an only child, learning how to play by himself and how to stay busy without any siblings constantly interfering. However, after Mr Ritchie pointed it out how Devon used to be more energetic, even challenging to an extent, I've got a completely different image before me. 

Whenever I look at him doing whatever it is he's doing - being a baby, I don't see a small child anymore. I just see a small person trying to navigate through a disaster, which is something he shouldn't be exposed to as an infant or a toddler or anything.

One thing is that life happens. We lose people, we change, things happen that are out of our control. And it's a whole different thing when something that could be prevented happens. In any case, you have to deal with the consequences, but with the latter, they can be avoided.

Devon's reservation, silence, unnatural calmness are just a reaction to something that could've been avoided.

He drove me nuts. Absolutely nuts. Constantly crawling around, pulling on drawers, sleeves and pants, knocking glasses over on the coffee table, and tissues on the stands, drooling on the carpet, couch and papers, throwing food at me and then at himself, crying in the middle of the night asking for a bottle, shitting at the most inappropriate time or shitting so much just to make me gag... I miss those things. That's who Devon is, a little evil adventurer. 

I can't brush off his new behaviour simply by saying that he has simply changed and found other things that interest him. I guess I could. but how would I explain his suddenly flinchy manner?

All that Devon needs is love, the feeling of being loved. Maybe that's what we all need at the beginning, and I can't let myself screw this up with him. 

During lunch, he begins to look more like himself, meaning he smudges his lunch over his face and clothes. It does make me smile a little, and it makes me feel hopeful that there's still a possibility for him to heal from the disaster that struck us. 

Honestly, the first disaster that happened to him was probably me adopting him. 

I'm still lowkey wondering what happened to his biological parents. Was he actually an orphan and his parents died, or was he given away? And if he was, why? It had to be a real and serious reason, I can't imagine just having a baby, deciding you don't think this is for you, and sending them off into the system. That's especially because it's never anyone's fault - I can't blame a father who lives in poverty and works himself to death if he decides to give up the kid in hopes of giving him a better life. And I can't blame a mother who's been raped if she can't stand to look at the baby. 

After all, maybe Devon was just taken from the parents. I don't know how these things go, but the abusive environment or an absolute shit-place of home are both valid reasons for social services to take the kid from parents. 

Does Devon feel he was adopted? I don't know if I read it somewhere, or was it mentioned in a documentary of a sort, but I can remember that it was explicitly mentioned adopted children can feel they don't belong to a family. They still love their adoptive parents, sometimes even more than their biological ones (which I relate to), but they have a kind of a nagging feeling. 

If that's all mumbo-jumbo, I don't know, but if it isn't, when do kids begin to feel that way? Now, I'm panicking that he's feeling both like an outcast and a traumatised baby. 

I lean on my elbow and continue to observe him eat, while I ponder about all my life's decisions. This part of the day used to be fun. Annabelle would be sitting across the table from me, probably smile now and then, but otherwise, try to have a meaningful conversation with me. I'd say some stupid shit or I'd go for her meaningful conversation as well. Devon would be there just munching and playing with his food. It was lovely. Meanwhile, this isn't.