They are the only ones who know me. I am the only one who knows them. Two best friends with secret stories and marvelous memories like mine. Two who should not get along but do. Two greatful men grown in Hartland, Wisconsin. At school, I can see them, but Michael just sloths around and doesn’t acknowledge anyone or anything.
Our bond is unbreakable. We give friendly greetings to our classmates. They reach over and reach out and give others their warm welcomes and exemplary advice and never give up. This is how they live.
Let us remember that night playing, we’d all get around the tv like superfans watching a Super Bowl, each with rage at one another. Goal, goal, goal the tv says when I score. I win.
When I am too celebratory and too loud to keep scoring, when I am a c***y winner against my friends, then it is I start to lose. When there is nothing left to do on the weekend. Two who bond despite rivalry. Two who bond and do not separate. Two whose only reason is to love and love.