The Boy

I ran across this post again as I was migrating stuff over from my old journal. I just about cry every time I see this short story, as it's a great reminder for all of us to never forget our childhood dreams. This was written by one of the craziest, most adventurous people I've ever had the privilege to know. Girls- be prepared to be bawling at the end of this!

"The Boy"

I just brushed eyes with a boy of about ten.

He looked up at me from three feet above the concrete dusted by dead leaves and hair rustled by his mother's hand. Loving, forever, but I know someday he'll leave. He looked up at me, and just because of my height and the fact that nobody was watching after me gave him envy.

"Damn you!" -those innocent eyes blared. "Damn you, for not being a superhero. Damn you for not flying, face first, from cloud to cloud. Damn you for growing up.

If I was as big, if I was as tall, if my mother was 5,000 miles away, if I had a bike and knew how to ride I'd never stop. I'd live on the fifteen cents hidden in my penny loafers, and I'd never fall in love. I'd never slow down cramp in the side popped back and get old. Damn you-

-for being sad. For forgetting to rake the leaves just for the sake of kicking them about. For not eating candy for breakfast. For not skipping class. For when you do go to class not wearing pajamas and smores mashed about your face.

Everything I had hope of doing you haven't done, and you were supposed to be the hope and savior of the playground where we never get to play!"

My eyes could say nothing but uttering, "I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for the both of us, but you're the hope and savior now of the playground where we never get to play.

Make us proud."
~Brandon Germer