Fair

“Sir, I’m here to ask you for-”

“No.”

“What?”

“I won’t give you my blessing.”

“Why not?”

“My son deserves better.”

“What have I done that made me so undesirable?”

“You changed him and continue to do so.”

“How are you so certain it was me who did all the work and not him? Why do you blame me instead of admiring his efforts?”

“Efforts? Do you see what you made of him? Of that lovely innocent boy, I knew?”

“He grew up. It would’ve happened with or without me. We all change when throughout our teenage years. Didn’t you, sir?”

“I’m not speaking about maturing; you know that very well. I’m talking about his mental state, his sudden change in career paths, his all-new interest in political activism. He has become a new person, a stranger to the person he was meant to be.”

“Meant to be? I wouldn’t have thought you believed in written paths, sir.”

“Stop being so witty, and tell me why you did this to him? Turned him around, made him deny his true identity?”

“Sir, I did none of those things. I was a friend as I have promised when we were little. I stood by him through thick and thin, I only talked when he asked me, I never forced anything onto him. He just opened his eyes to see the world as it is.”

“No, what you did was throw him into a pit of uncertainty and unsureness, ripping away all the safety we instilled in him, stripping him of his faith, isolating him from his community. What does he have now? The darkness of his own mind, overtaking everything that you didn’t already take.”

“His depression is not my fault! You cannot stand there lecturing me on taking! Don’t act like you have the high ground like you have the right to tell me anything of what I have done wrong!”

“So you admit you wronged him?”

“I did nothing of the sorts. When we met in college, he had already begun his journey. I did not give my hand and lead him, I did not walk the path for him.”

“Stop saying that! It means nothing to me. Your actions gave you away, and no word can reverse the havoc you reeked. Why couldn’t you leave him alone?!”

“Leave him? I loved him, I still do. He was my only friend in my childhood, and now as adults, he’s my safety blanket. He is to me what your faith is to you. Even if he wasn’t, if he was just a friend, I wouldn’t have left him, just as our friends didn’t. I’m not sure he would be here without our support.”

“I… Thank you. For that I am grateful.”

“You say actions speak louder than words then why can’t those actions, the ones that helped him convince you that I want nothing, but happiness for him? Why can’t you accept that our love, even without Him, can be true and meaningful?”

“Have you ever been a community like ours?”

“No, sir, I have not. I was raised in a non-religious household, left to my own devices to figure out what I think is beyond what we can see.”

“Then you could never understand what he went through, what giving it up, leaving meant. What it did to him or what it did to us.”

“I may know more about his side than you do. He talked about it a lot. He needed to, it was the only way to process that break. I know I will never truly understand, and I do not wish to even pretend I do. All I know is that he holds no regret and he feels no guilt. To me, that means he did what was right for him. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“No. I have made decisions that I only regretted years after. It seemed like the right choice, but as we all see it now, they were not. And just like mine, his path back will be long and difficult, riddled with judgment as well as obstacles that may seem impossible to those less determined.”

“You cannot compare jail with leaving a toxic community!”

“I see, so you think us toxic?”

“Yes. All I see is a group of judgmental, close-minded individuals, who see as far as an old text, yet somehow interpret it in ways that will benefit their cause. Any, who deny them or tries to change their outdated ways is either an enemy or someone to be pitied.”

“If you think our ways are so outdated and close-minded, why do you ask for my blessing? Why do you even try to convince me of your innocence?”

“Because I know how much you mean to him.”

“So just because your love feels so strongly about it, you’re willing to spend an afternoon with a religious felon?”

“Yes. Just because he loves you I am willing to spend an afternoon with a man, who left his family for fifteen years and on his return decided to preach, instead of reflecting.”

“I didn’t leave my family, I was accused and tried and found guilty.”

“How can you tell your son to be his true self, when you can’t even say you got caught, that you are a criminal?”

“I want him to be better than me, is that so horrid? Are parents not allowed to lead their children?”

“So you can, but I can’t?”

“You’re not his parent if I’m correct?”

“Well, I sure have known him longer than you do.”

“Time doesn’t matter if it’s not spent wisely.”

“Who does he go to when he’s in a crisis? To his father behind bars, the man who couldn’t keep a single promise, or to his friend who has done nothing but support him and appreciate his trust?”

“You are no friend, does he know what you really think of me, of his past, of his religion?”

“Yes, I made it very clear to him where I stand with people who judge and hurt those who are already being trampled on. If you don’t mind, I would like that blessing now? I think I spent more time than either one of us would prefer in this place.”

“My blessing, that’s all you want? Give me back my son, then it’s yours. Fairness, that’s what you’re all about. How about that? Give me back the person I suffered fifteen years of prison for, and I give you my blessing. Give me back the boy I thought about every day to keep myself from committing another mortal sin and you shall get what you want! Is that fair enough for you?”