Back then, he was the only thing that made me feel alive. Before school, after school, during school. I went to see him. To get my fix.
Over the back field, through the abandoned farms, to the woods on the outskirts of town. No one else around. Just me and him. Doing our little dance.
I would wait on the bridge. He would emerge from behind the trees. Always there. Always waiting. Our little dance began.
He’d take three steps towards me. I’d take one step back. Close enough now, he knew. No further.
He watched me watching him in his private moment. Fascinated. Transfixed. Too young to really understand.
The police came and took him away. Said he was a bad man; he was going to do bad things one day. But at the time, I didn’t see it that way.
Back then, he was the only thing that made me feel alive.