And these odds only increase with each additional teenage boy you add to the mix. I mean, teenage boys are in a constant state of trying to derail their futures, and occasionally end their lives. I once wondered if my insular circle of boys would be my undoing - perhaps all of ours. As time went on, the whole proved more necessary than any single part. Quite the contrary, I was more of a floater within the group, for years the one without a clear best friend, a trait that would prove contagious. In no way was I the sun around which this collection of boys revolved. But it was obvious which boys continued to find ways to cross each other’s path or collect stories with one another. There was never a declaration of who was in the circle, or that there was even a circle. Each of us had our own outlier friends, and different factions and smaller crews would break off, depending on the activity, the neighborhood you lived in, the sports you played, and, as we got older, the trouble you liked to get into. Growing up in Atlanta, these boys became my first inner circle, before I knew what that meant. Some fell into my life as early as the single digits, all before high school began. There’s a group of men I’ve known since we were children. It doesn’t have to be said you can feel it. It’s what’s implied after that loving declaration. It’s not the “love” itself that hits hard - that’s always been there. A long talk, a wild night, a tough phone call, and then “I love you, man.” And eventually, out of nowhere, it starts to come out of our mouths. Last November, it was Thanksgiving break.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |