I have been assaulted.
And attacked and raped and beaten.
A complete barrage of wild emotions and pounding hearts.
A massive wave of you.
I have been destroyed in Boston Pizza.
By a flashback and a fantasy and a dream and hope come true all at once.
And a nightmare, too.
And a severe case of déja vu.
It's the last day of school. I'm about to face two months without him. I see him by his locker. Time to say goodbye, to tap him on the shoulder and give him a hug. I walk up to him. He's crouched down picking up his books in his tool-ish, sweet little way. I'm behind him now. My hand makes a twitching grabbing motion at his shoulder. I falter. I start walking again.
He hasn't noticed I was there.
Has anyone in the world ever had a seizure brought on by a camo-patterned hoodie and short mousy hair? OTHER than the fashion police?
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