Saggy Pants is gone.

I really don't have the words to do justice to how absolutely empty I feel inside right now. I've cried enough in the past 24 hours to last me a life time. And I've cried over a boy I've known barely 4 months.

Saggy wasn't someone I thought I would care about very much when I began my tenure at the Bad Ass Boy's Home. In fact, I thought he was a truly "bad" kid. And even though I thought that, I would occasionally see glimpses of a kind, funny kid who hid behind a profane mouth and a tough guy exterior.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, Saggy ingratiated himself in my heart. More often than not he was "campused" meaning he had to eat dinner by himself. Only because I am a staff member was I allowed to sit with him. He would invite me to sit with him and he would regale me with tales of his day and tell me the inside scoop about the other boys. He never failed to make me laugh with his lightening quick wit and creative use of the word "fuck."

I would spend time during study hall with him, doing cross word puzzles. I realized at that point that Saggy is a very smart young man. His mind works quickly and he's got a lot of knowledge that surprised me. Keeping him focused long enough to finish a puzzle was a feat, but it was never boring. I learned a lot about him during those hours.

During recreation hour, Saggy was in his element. He shone as an athlete. He moves on the basketball court with grace and elegance. His body contorts to make shots that seem impossible. He's quick and agile. And yet, he's completely uncoachable.

I realized just how much Saggy meant to me about three weeks ago. After rec one night, he was in a tremendous amount of pain from a back injury sustained in a wicked game of 21. The pain was so bad that he was in tears, something completely out of character for Saggy. I ran to the store to get some Ben Gay for the muscle ache. After about five minutes of having Ben Gay rubbed on his back, his creative cussing kicked in. "Fucking mother fucking son of a fucking bitch, Michelle. This shit is HOT! My shit's on FIRE!" I convinced him I wasn't plotting to burn patches of his skin from his body, and he calmed down. He laid his head on my lap and whimpered for about twenty more minutes. Almost mindlessly, I began stroking his hair, murmuring to him, to soothe him. He laid there calmly for nearly an hour, allowing me to "mother" him. When he went to bed that night, he leaned down to hug me and whispered his thanks. I knew right then that the tide had turned in my feelings for this boy. I realized that there were two sides to Saggy and I had been privy to see the best side of him more often than not.

He's not a bad person, not deep down. He's kind and compassionate. He's polite and funny. He's a protective big brother and is helpful to new residents at the Bad Ass Boy's Home. He's a hard physical laborer. He can be a good sport and a good teacher. And he's extremely smart.

But it's almost as if there are two Saggy's. The other one is petulant and hateful. He's vitriolic and curses as easily as he breathes. He cuts people down with a sharp, stinging turn of a phrase. He'll find your weakest point and then attack with ferocity when you least expect it. He can be physically violent.

And it's the physical violence that has taken him from the Bad Ass Boy's Home. Saggy contracted with his probation officer, his house parent and the psychologist on staff that if he were to get one more suspension, he would be dismissed from the Bad Ass Boy's Home. That may seem like no great loss. Except as a condition of his probation, if he were to fail the program at the Bad Ass Boy's Home, he would then be adjudicated and would face at least six months in a juvenile detention facility SOMEWHERE in the state.

When he made this deal, I told him, begged him to keep the contract. I told him how it had been difficult for me to see Junior Gangsta leave. However, I knew in my heart it was the best thing for him, as he had been referred to a drug treatment facility and he would get the help he needed to combat his chemical dependency. But losing Saggy would be the end of me and I knew it. And I made sure he knew it.

I came into work Thursday night to be told that Saggy had been discharged and this would be his last night at the Bad Ass Boy's Home. I had only about five minutes to myself to pull my shit together. When he came into the dining room, his eyes were red and swollen. He took one look at me and dropped his head. And the first onslaught of tears began.

We ate together, just he and I, one last time. He told me what he had done to merit a final suspension. I will not excuse his actions, nor will I lay blame anywhere but at his feet. He made a conscious decision, a very poor choice. And I know it. However, it doesn't make the loss any easier.

Saggy has an innate ability to know what people need, which adds to his charm. He knew I needed to have a lot of contact with him that last night. And maybe he needed it himself. We spent most of study hall together, doing a final crossword. We walked to rec together and he made sure I was watching his final basketball game. At some point during the game, though, I lost my composure and had to go outside to grieve a bit in private. When I was composed enough to return, he yelled for me to watch as he sunk a three pointer from half court. After rec, during the group discussion where his cottage mates were allowed to say good-bye, he sat next to me. When it came time for me to make my remarks during the group, I was choked by tears and couldn't. He squeezed my arm and said I didn't have to say anything, because he knew what was on my mind.

When he went to bed that night, he asked if he could talk to me. I went to his room and he handed me a polaroid of him from last summer. Through hiccupping sobs, I told him how much he means to me and that I didn't think I would ever be able to get this close to one of the boys. I told him how intelligent, funny, special and amazing I think he is. And I told him how very much I'd miss him. He hugged me and told me he would be alright.

I knew he would be leaving the next morning, so I made sure I found my way back to the Bad Ass Boy's Home the following morning. Since Saggy will be spending Christmas in jail, I wanted him to have the Christmas stocking I made for him. I think he was very surprised to see me drive up yesterday morning. He tore into his stocking, filled with his favorites-Milky Ways, Hot Wheels, wintergreen tic tacs, a football pencil, a basketball eraser, a gel pen (since he loved mine), assorted chocolate, a candy cane and a card with a long letter saying everything I couldn't say to him the night before.

We spent a final hour together, playing tic tac toe and laughing. His dad pulled up and our truly final good-bye was at hand. He hugged me hard for a good 5 minutes and I kissed his cheek, which was wet with tears. I told him I wasn't giving up on him and I would see him sooner than later. He said thanks and walked away from me.

I know what loss feels like. I've lived it with the death of my father, my best friend and my grandmother. I struggled through the loss of a man I loved more than life itself, a man I thought I would spend my life with, a man who would become in my mind the epitome of all I wanted in a partner. Those losses, especially the last one, enabled me to erect walls around myself so that I wouldn't be hurt again.

But, now, I've lost a boy who, in a short time, came closer to me than I've let anyone in almost two years. He broke through those walls. And I will never, ever be the same again.