xx - o1 - xxxx
He's dirty. Filthy clothes, filthy habits, filthy manners. I can see the grime beneath his fingernails when he walks, when he speaks; it's all I see. Dirt beneath his fingernails. I wonder who he really is.

There is nothing nice about him. Nothing to like about him. His voice is rough, his hair is matted. He never takes care of himself because no one tells him he's worth it. Everyone is worth it. But no one tells him. No one.


xx - o2 - xxxx
A ribbon is braided into his hair. Blue, like his eyes, like mine. I don't ask about it, I won't. Still no one tells him he is better than he thinks. Better than they think. Better than I think.

There's still dirt beneath his fingernails.


xx - o3 - xxxx
I realize he likes trees. This will continue to prove problematic for some time.


xx - o4 - xxxx
He seems to be clever. Completely uneducated, but intelligent. I can't reason with him, I can't philosophize with him, but I can feel for him. I can reach him. I read the pain in his eyes before he looks away.

Once upon a time, he lost someone like I lost someone. I know without being told. He loved once; maybe beneath the caked mud and gruff demeanor is someone who was also loved. Maybe she loved him as he is now, dirt beneath his fingernails and a ribbon in his hair.

People scare him now. He doesn't love, and no one loves him. They say nothing. I say nothing. I stare at the sky to try to find the words but it remains empty. Everything blue doesn't always tell a story.


xx - o5 - xxxx
Two frogs. One is real, the other is fake. I never knew how slimy they were; when a barmaid hands me the carving, the smooth wood feels wet to the touch. I don't want to remember.

I confront him. We fight. We always fight. We fight because otherwise we would have to talk, and I still have nothing to say.


xx - o6 - xxxx
I see underneath his fingernails, but there is no dirt. There's only a lost boy.


xx - o7 - xxxx
I find him trying to read. He doesn't know how. I know, even though he refuses to admit it. For once, I can't tease him.

I tell him the reason the words don't make sense is because he's reading the wrong book. It's not the first lie I've told that I wanted desperately to believe. A promise is made; to him, I promise I'll get him the right book. To myself, I promise I will not stop believing that lie.

I want to teach him but don't know how.


xx - o8 - xxxx
For one night, I dress him in clean clothes and get to see his face. He looks young. I knew he was young but he truly looks young. He's never grown up.


xx - o9 - xxxx
He never had dirt beneath his fingernails. He had a wall around his heart.

I can see now this is going to hurt.


xx - o10 - xxxx
A kiss.

I hold it in the palm of my hand. As I look at it, I'm reminded of a hard lesson learned: things are not always what they seem. We're connected now by a thread, by a thimble. He sees me for the first time. He doesn't turn away.

I know now why I cannot teach him. It's because I am the student.


xx - o11 - xxxx
While I study, he plays at rescuing me. Except his sword is real. The villains are real. I can hear that clock ticking, trying to wear us both down. Time only heals wounds by erasing them, eroding them, obliterating them until nothing is left.

It hasn't dawned on him that he really is rescuing me. Or, maybe it has. Maybe that's why he continues to come. Uninvited. Unaided. I have no window I can unlock. He knows, understands, forgives. He keeps breaking in.


xx - o12 - xxxx
I could love him.

Were he anyone else, were I anyone else, it would not be possible. I'm terrified that things will change. I'm terrified that they won't. I never want him to grow up. I feel like I've aged for both of us, with the weight I carry on my heart.

I could love him.

I look to the sky and see nothing. I look in his eyes and see everything. No one tells him that he's worth it. No one tells him that he's better. No one tells him that he's beautiful.

I know I must, but I can't.

I could love him.

But I can't.


xx - o13 - xxxx
His world is one of dreams come true, hopes never lost, love never failing. I've seen it; I never want to leave. It makes me cry, and want to hold him when he does. Our tears are no longer shed for lives past, but for the future that cannot be if we both never grow up.


xx - o14 - xxxx
I know who he is now.

Peter Pan.