I know someone who wants to be adopted. He’s past the age where that is likely to happen, but when this brown-eyed waif of a seventeen-year-old dreams, he dreams of having a family who wants him. Even though I know the odds aren’t with him, I tell him to hold on to that dream. And I dream it for him, too.
He’s not cuddly and innocent. He’s seen too much, and done things he regrets. But I love him for reasons I cannot begin to explain, not the least of which is because I can.
The system does not work in his favor. The law will not save him. Only love can do that. Only love of the unlikeliest kind.