The annoying boy

I met him in 6th grade.

He managed to get on my nerves like no one else. Though he had wormed his way into my friend group through mutual friends, I didn’t really interact with him much.

It was only the next year that we really got to know each other.

I saw a boy alone.

I saw a boy cracked (even broken).

I took him in.

Sometimes, I wanted nothig more to walk away, and never have to deal with him again. But I didn’t.

And now, it’s finally payed off.

He’s learned.

He’s grown.

He’s become someone I’m proud to call a friend.

This must come off as incredibly self-centered, and it probably is. I don’t care. He needed help, and I helped him.

He wrote a post about me, on here. When I saw it, I wanted to cry. I’ve made an impact. And really, isn’t that the point of it all?