He was saddened, I don't quite understand what made him feel so unsure about his self. Then I understood it perfectly well, I knew this feeling.

His mother had high expectations of him and forced him to take an AP class, a class where in the middle of the whole class he was the only one who knew he didn't have enough intellect to continue on. He doubted hisself.

He knew that all of these people around him were smarter, brighter, and more enthusiastic about learning than him. When he would answer a question it would be wrong, but he would be confident. So confident that when he was wrong he would manage to crumble and never answer another question again.

So, I told him, "keep going." He looked at me and yelled, "But I'm stupid, Sierra. I don't hold the capacity of the other children, they're all better than me and you know it."

I did know it. I knew it well enough that I knew if he had, in fact, kept going he would be better than them. In that, he would gain superior knowledge and be over them.

So, weeks and weeks went by. I kept teaching him all that I know and he kept listening. Eventually, his eyes began to grow on mine.

Now, I couldn't let this be... so I told him that I wasn't ready for anything new and he was, in fact, not for me.

And the child's fingers squeezed mine and said, "I don't love you, I appreciate you."