He probably thinks I'm weird sometimes because of the way I look at him. I see myself in his eyes and I wonder how long his innocence will remain. By the time I was his age mine was long gone and the world was becoming an extremely ugly and hurtful place. While I'm staring, his eyes become crystal balls and I gaze into his future with hope that the same monsters that attacked me will leave him alone. When I'm done watching him, I often catch his glance fixed upon me. He seems to be looking for a preview of himself and what he might become. His words are proof. He asks to have my clothes, begs me to give him piano lessons, and tells me how much our time together means. The same eyes that were staring at him must look away before they start to water. He has no idea the extent of what I feel. We are twenty years apart but there is no one on earth closer. His texts literally make me cry. My prayers for him are violent and intense. God MUST hear me when I talk about him and make decrees over his life and future. It's now 7am and he'll be here in about thirty minutes. My mom will drop him off, but I will "pick him up." He's not heavy, he's my...