At first he was pink, a very harsh and abnormal color for a human being, but he was beautiful nonetheless. He was new and very different from anything that I had ever experienced. I stared at him for hours, and felt like a part of me was gone when I had to leave. It's been 3 weeks now, and I have plenty of pictures, but the thought of seeing him in person shoots down sadness, eradicates pain, and surpasses all logic. When I see him I feel wonderful, as if I can do anything I have ever dreamed to do. He is the push for me to get better, the reason I need to be stronger. And I have never loved anyone as much as I love him. I call him Simba because he is the first.
My brother's son. The only small redemption of NYC.
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Right Where You Left It
RandomDidn't it seem like time moved way slower when we were kids? Now I'm not an adult, at least...not legally, but I feel that time is moving by in light years. Yesterday I was about to start 9th grade, and now I'm about to be a senior. Where did that t...
