He was the most beautiful boy I'd ever spoken to. His eyes were blue as ice and he frowned a lot. He liked to talk a lot and would email me with the most bizarre questions he could think up.
He made me feel special. He made me feel interesting.
I hoped I could fix him, smooth over the cracks in his cool demeanor. Underneath that frown lurked a wealth of dark, bubbling hatred just waiting to boil over. He wanted to fix me too. I didn't talk to them. Neither did he. We talked to one another.
'Keep me a secret,' he asked, 'keep me safe. I only want you, not what comes with you.'
I nodded. I would have given him the whole world. He got angry sometimes and I knew just how to make him smile. He hated my job, I hated his habit. He gave me music and green and hope. I wanted to give him everything. Would he have taken it? I suppose he was tempted. Looking back now, I realise that it wasn't just me who wasn't ready.
He taught me where the kids were at. What I was missing out on. I taught him that I didn't need it.
Everything spiralled and I threatened to split in two, my personality coming apart at the seams. I was suddenly scared. I grasped, reaching out for something, anything. But my life raft pulled me away from him. I could never be safe near him.
We're friends now. Friends who don't touch. We don't hug, we don't kiss. We sit with safe distance between. Like a few hundred miles.
We're closer than ever.