He wasn’t someone that caught your eye right away. He wasn’t the kind of guy, where, he walked past you and you would have to take a second look. In fact, you might not of even noticed him. For some reason, I noticed him. I noticed everything about him.
My uncle called him trouble. I called him daring. I think that’s what I loved about him. He wasn’t safe. I think from the very beginning I knew he’d break me. But he made me feel alive. I’d been dealing with so many insecurities, so many fears and had lost hope. He, he was full of everything I was losing. A part of me was hoping he was my lifeline. Little did I know what I was reaching out to.
We were just two teens, one older than the other, but far less aware of what life was capable of. He taught me so much. From the very beginning, he was fearless. The thing that I loved most. Ten years later, and that’s the things I hate the most. When we were young, it was fun, it was freeing. My world was so traditional then. The mother cooked, the father worked. I didn’t know much about anything outside of what my parents taught me, which wasn’t much. In his world, his mother worked, his mother cooked, his father was gone and wouldn’t teach him a thing. Yet, at 12, he was already half the man he’d ever be.
We slowly grew up together, but apart. Our worlds were different, the only thing connecting us was each other. Even that lost strength every now and again. We would never be too far for the other to find, no matter how much we always felt like we wanted to get away from each other. Each time we tried and failed, there was always something pulling us back. For a lot of years, I called that love. I let that feeling live inside me and it controlled every memory I ever had of him.
I’m no stranger to being away from him. I’m no stranger to his mood changes. I’m no stranger to his disappearances time and time again. I’m no stranger to him being sorry and changing nothing.
We grew up, slowly. Lesson after lesson we were there for one another. Challenge after challenge, we were there. Then, we were tested once more. We ran back to each other one too many times, and got a little too close. Played with fire, and I got burned. I live with a living reminder of my adolescent decisions, a tiny spirit of my youth. Him, well, he’s gone again. Nowhere to be found, and everywhere he is felt.
We’ll grow old, slowly. Each one has a pace. Each one, along the way, learning from mistakes.
He wasn’t someone that would catch my eye. He wasn’t someone, I’d though I’d be a part of. In fact, if you warned me of my future, I’d laughed. If only they would of warned me of him.