Little boy

There's this man, that I love more than I ever thought I could love anybody. He's a hard working, calloused hand, tattooed, southern gentleman. He's my whole world. I could brag about him for hours, and I have!

But you see, a long time ago, the little boy that would someday be this amazing man was hurt. He was hurt very badly.

So when I kiss his lips, and tell him "I may not have been your first kiss, but I promise to be your last." The twinkle in his eye fades away, and he says "I didn't realize my first kiss was when I was 10."

This man had his first kiss when he was a little boy. Which, anybody would first see as sweet. But this man was a little boy kissed by another man. A little boy touched by another man. Hurt by another man. A man who has no claim to the title of being a man.

And today, this man, that I love more than he'll ever know, is broken. I've seen him cry his eyes out onto my chest. I've watched him shake violently in a panic attack. I've watched him so desperately try to put the pieces back together, and never be able to. I've watched him come back from the restroom bleached of color because there was blood in the toilet and it brought back horrific memories of being a little boy. I've looked into his eyes as we lay next to each other in bed, knowing I'm looking into the eyes of a little boy in that moment. A very sad, very lost, very hurt, little boy.

To say my heart breaks for this man is an understatement. There are no words in the English language to describe the level of devastation my heart has come to because of the creep who touched the man I love before he was even close to being a man.

I love this man. I am so intertwined with this man. This man who has a little boy trapped inside. A little boy that still cries, still gets scared, still fears for his safety. I have to remind this little boy that I'm alway going to protect him. That I love him so very much and that I'll never ever let anyone hurt him like that again.