“The monsters will be dead”

To little boy Arys from daddy:

If eyes could talk then yours would sing

It’s true you are the most beautiful thing

You’re mild like a Sunday morning

Your smile as bright as daybreak dawning

And nothing’s ever made more sense

And I will, promise to kill

All the monsters in your dreams and in your head

So hold still and I promise to fill

All your waking days with happiness instead

So if I took you by the hand

Would everything go exactly as we planned

Tonight you wouldn’t even notice

If I could just steal one more soft kiss

And everything would just make sense

And I will, promise to kill

All the monsters in your dreams and in your head

So hold still and I promise to fill

All your waking days with happiness instead

The monsters will be dead

The monsters will be dead

And she said

Bear with me, bear with me, bear with me

I won’t forget

Bear with me, bear with me, bear with me

I won’t forget wohoo

Bear with me, bear with me, bear with me

I won’t forget wohooo

Bear with me, bear with me, bear with me

I won’t forget wohooo

And I will, promise to kill

All the monsters in your dreams and in your head (your head)

So hold still and I promise to fill

All your waking days with happiness instead

And I will, promise to kill

All the monsters in your dreams and in your head

So hold still and I promise to fill

All your waking days with happiness instead

The monsters will be dead!

[“Monsters” by CoCo & The Butterfields]

Most “love songs” are written for romantic love but to me, especially now, so many of them feel like platonic love songs that the father in me could write/sing to the boy in me, that my daddy could sing to my little boy, and possibly even with close platonic friends joining in. It is, in fact, greatly thanks to the sincere affection, support, and camaraderie from my close platonic friends that I can find some unconditional love for myself. Their concrete gestures and words of platonic love towards me help as I father the little boy in me, trying to “kill the monsters in his dreams and in his head” & “promising to fill his waking days with happiness instead”. Like the reminder from one of my closets non-binary friends here that as much as my European queer ex-lover truly loved me, they also disrespected me & some important requests/boundaries of mine. Or the comment from my closest climbing buddy: “I don’t really like the situation you had with A. last year because, honestly, I think A. took advantage of you”. Or the gift from my running neighbor & dear friend down the street who, upon hearing that I yearned for a copy of the book “Under the whispering door” and was undecided whether to unearth the copy (with dedication) that my European queer ex-lover gave me last summer or buy myself a new one, went and bought me new copy as a present and gave it to me with a simple but lovely dedication that I’ll always cherish. 

These words, these gestures, indeed, help “kill the monsters in my dreams and in my head” & “fill my waking days with happiness instead”, sustaining me in my endeavor to father the broken-hearted boy in me. 

And while grief from my losses will always remain part of me — as another friend wisely reminded me — hopefully, eventually the monsters will be dead!