I understood why a lot of my friends had a crush on him. He was young, attractive enough, energetic, cool, and somehow made what should have been a boring, if not torturous class, enjoyable.
He had encouraged me to write and write more and write often. He saw past my tough talk and stubbornness and recognized a young 16-year old who, with a little push, could turn a hobby into a passion.
…A few years ago, I ran into Mr. S, as I lovingly referred to him, while we were both seated in a doctor’s office waiting room. I recognized him immediately and, as I started to make my way over to him, I saw his eyes lift and his expression change. He recognized me, too.
But as he spoke, I sensed something unfamiliar. It was sadness. I looked in his eyes and saw that he looked tired. His voice was not the voice I remembered, but was dull and monotone.
Then, I asked about his wife. He answered me and, as he did, I felt the room shift under my feet.
Come hang out with me over at Prodigal Magazine today to read more. I look forward to seeing you there.