I broke a boy once. Saw him tumble from his tower of innocence smiling all the way down. All the way till he crashed on the ground. I broke a boy and I didn't feel sorry. Not even once. I watched him gather his pieces and scrounge for the glue. Begging anyone but me for help. His tattered tears and bloody bones a sight for only the devil to see. His battled cries and cutting sobs sailing through the wind and past my ears. I broke a boy once. I broke a boy but I made a man.

     Every flaw you could ever imagine. Fixed. Nerves turned into steel, shuffles turned into strides, nods turned into boasts of YES. What's more? I was forgiven. His awkward glances turned into friendly salutes, and with every swipe of the hand I fell deeper into guilt. His 100 foot distance turned into 50, then 25, then a hug on a hard day. Casual conversations turned into late night confessions turned into good morning stories turned into self-disgust. I broke a boy and now he was slowly breaking me.

     Maybe he knows what every wink and waggle does. What confidence in a friend means when a friend isn't deserved. What guilty relief is felt when support is unquestionable. What shame is soaked into the blood at every simple smile. Maybe he knows, and I place no blame on him at all. I will pay with my self-respect, I will break down just as he did. I will smile all the way down until I hit the ground. I broke a boy and I made a man, maybe he's just returning the favor.