The boy Named Michael.

A few years ago a boy featured in a story of mine. I’d never met him before, but there was something about the way he spoke to me over MSN that made me want to get to know him.
In this story, he was the mentor of the protagonist, yet at the time I did not realize this. He was a person whom always intrigued me, yet I never went out of my way to actually meet. Then one day, I met him without even realizing.

Over time I learnt that this boy was everything I’d thought him to be and in a way, more. He’d died his hair blond and I’d met him through another mate other than the boy I was a close friend with, whom gave me his email in the first place.

Anyway, the point of me writing this was earlier tonight I decided I needed to go for a walk to clear my head – this being after watching glee and losing count of how many glassed of wine I’d consumed. On this walk I’d decided to go to the park, the exact park I’d written my protagonist meeting this Michael after needing to do the same thing. It was so surreal being there. Sitting on the swing and being in her shoes, yet knowing that Michael was not going to come down the hill and sit on the seat adjacent to the swings – one major reason being they’d done up the park with plastic crap and there was no longer a park bench there, another was that I was having the weirdest sensation from sitting in the swing to begin with that him coming down the hill would only be the icing on the cake.

But the truth was, the boy never came and I was left with nothing but the streetlights from the town below and the airplanes to light my hill. The boy was not coming to tell me it was alright, the boy was not coming to tell me to grow a pair; I was alone with nothing but the wind and the sound of engines revving miles away to soothe my fucked up heart.
And for a moment, I was okay with that. For just a moment, I looked up to the sky and finally felt content. But the sight of the glowing moon brought me back to reality and I knew I must sit up and once more, put on my shoes and find my way back to the spinning world I’d called reality.

And as I sat there on the tam bark, I’d come to realized that Michael only lived a block away from where I was and that even though I know he was not coming, I’d have done anything to see him there at the park with me, just sitting there; staring at the stars.