He had his gloves up to the rest of the world. His shield of independence shouted in a deep roar just how fine he was to walk the road alone. But if you could get past that shell of protection, you would see that his heart was aching to be taken care of. To be given a chance to not be given up on. He’d been waiting a lifetime to find somebody who could tap him out, then take him home and clean his wounds.
I decided I wanted to be that person to him. To try to be, at least.