Believing

My younger self didn't understand  a lot of things. For instance, it baffled his tiny little mind that the green arrows in the car always knew which way we were going to turn. He told himself that it was magic, and that it was telling mommy and daddy which way to go to get home. He could escape to anywhere he wanted, all he had to do was believe and pretend he was there. He thought that he had superpowers, the ability to hear through solid doors, and the ability to make everything dance when he blinked one eye at a time. He thought that if he believed hard enough, he could be Spider-Man and climb up walls, shoot webs out of his hands and save the world. He was always believing that he was incredible, that he was the most amazing, creative, super powered, loved little seven year-old in the world. When he was eight, his mommy and daddy told him that they didn't love each other anymore. This was another thing he didn't understand. He was told everything was going to be alright, and that they just wouldn't be together anymore. He took a picture with his siblings and his dad, and another with his mom. From then on, he went from parent to parent, house to house, school to school, he never understood why these things were happening. As the years went by, he lost his super powers, he lost the magic, he lost his escapes. All he had left was the ability to believe he was loved.