38: Where Did He Go?

I’m fairly certain that the version of him we lived with during the last year, was mostly a chemically-altered version. During the ugly days of summer, I couldn’t find my M anywhere – and believe me, I searched hard.
   
My child is missing, and  I can’t find him anywhere. His name is M, and he is

  • extremely funny and has the ability to make you laugh…hard.
  • an amazing artist.  It’s fascinating to watch him draw a picture – he can create beautiful pencil sketches so quickly.
  • skilled at hitting tennis balls against the garage door; he knows all the sweet spots.
  • a genius at creating artwork out of simple desserts.  (This became a friendly – but heated – competition between K and him occasionally.)
  • an amazing impersonator.  (I know, sometimes it was at the expense of his teachers.  I’m sorry about that, by the way.)
  • an energetic, hilarious dancer in the passenger seat…could watch him forever – so, so funny.
  • the kid who always organizes the neighborhood football games, baseball games, and excursions to TCBY.  

Some may say the description of the boy who has gone missing, simply turned into a teenager and that’s why I didn’t recognize him anymore…but I beg to differ. The thing that took over my son’s body left him withdrawn, insolent, and disagreeable; he had became a shell of the person we had known for his entire life. We want  him back.  He’s only sixteen.

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