Try to Understand

My name is Jack. Or Johnny. Charles. Michael. Richard. Paul. Luke. Mark.

I am a male.

When you first meet me, when we first really take notice of each other, I will be awkward. My voice will certainly crack, and I'll very likely be uncomfortable in a changing body.

Try to understand.

I'm a boy.

I'll be at sweaty sporting events that you like to watch, or maybe you like to play, too. I'll probably stare at you a lot, before I talk to you. If I ever get up the nerve to talk to you, which I might never do.

Try to understand.

I'm a young man

I'll be very intense about a lot of things. Things that get to young men. Whatever it is, I'll probably be it's sole true believer. This will probably be the way I love you. Intensely. I'll be sure of the future. I'll be positive what's going to happen, with me, with you, with us, with the world. I'll be so sure of myself, I'll forget about you too soon. I'll miss you before you're gone because I've not managed my time wisely. I'll break your heart. And I won't mean it.

Try to understand.

I'm a man.

I'll have lost someone like you. I'll miss someone like you. I'll want to be with someone like you again. Or you'll be the opposite of all of those things, and I'll be refreshed. I'll be out of the Army, or the Air Force, and I'll have learned a thing or two about the world. Hopefully it will have made me practical, but then again it might make me reckless. We might drink to much. We might love each other good and hard, to make up for the losses of our lives. I'll be the boy you couldn't catch, and you can be the girl I couldn't keep. We'll be the happier remake of the movies with sad endings, that we couldn't' get out of our minds.

Try to understand.

I'm a boy.