Pear. I’m not going anywhere without you.

Im in a moment, a blink of your eyes, my eyes, our eyes. Your image melts my heart as I swing a bat, one more swing that brings me closer to your arms, your lips, the silkiness of your skin, the pineapple, coconut, cotton candy, sweetness of your breath that tickles my spine and makes me shiver. I hit that ball only for the end result, four words that softly tickle the tiniest membrane of my ears…I love you reed.

You were always so good at that. But I can’t hear it anymore. Don’t hear it. Not the way you said it. I need to hear it. Afraid to ask. Hoping that’s all someone will say. Again and again and again and forever.

I don’t recall hearing it but once as a boy. It was fake. It was out of sadness and the cold reality that it had never been said by someone who should have said it more. And so, it meant nothing.

Imagine a child who needs water, food, a dry bed, encouragement, positive reinforcement, clean clothes, and maybe, on occasion, being told he is loved, important, meaningful, cute, his name whispered and those four words you were so famous for, poured into the membrane, outside the ear, that made the heart flutter and almost stop and made me feel so alive, so in love and so loved.

Yea, I’m still doing my thing, hanging with the boys, being a boy, playing games with a ball, but you will always be there with me won’t you? You are always there with me yet you don’t know it. I do it for your approval or perhaps the thought I might hear you say those words. I stand before a perfect audience, clouds containing faces, animals, and memories, dancing just beyond a wall that challenges my swing,clawing at time, reminding me of what I want to see-happiness. This is my place. This is my diamond, my ball-field, my hot corner, ain’t no ball getting passed me. It’s MY place yet you were always there. Singing a song, pom poms in hand, cheering me on. It’s our place because I did it for you, I did it for your sexy, soft words……I love you reed.

So, When that moment comes for me to shine, and everything is on the line. That split second where 100 miles per hour challenges physics, I’ll see your face and know you are watching. I’ll do it for you. Hit it for you and if I don’t hit the perfect shot for you, down the line or over the fence, I’ll try again because you are worth it. And if it takes longer than expected, don’t be mad, I’ll be home soon and give you every minute, and every detail of every shot I tried to hit for you. Love me my Ida.