Where I was guarded, he was thoughtful.
Where I expected rejection, he expected… possibility.
He made jokes no one else understood.
He remembered things no one else noticed.
And somehow, without trying, he made the orphanage feel less like a place we were stuck… and more like something we could survive together.
We did everything side by side.
Meals. Homework. Late-night whispers when the lights were supposed to be off.
When other kids got adopted, we’d sit quietly afterward, pretending it didn’t matter.
But we both knew the truth.
We weren’t getting picked.
So we picked each other instead.
Growing Up Meant Holding On Tighter
When we aged out, the world didn’t suddenly become easier.
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