Guardian Angel
"And so the angel descended from heaven and wrapped his wings around the righteous man, thus claiming him as his own."
I often wonder about the term "righteous man." It can mean a multitude of things. Perhaps a righteous man is a man of God, or a man in the pursuit of justice. What, then, is my righteous man?
He is many things, but one thing he is not, is a man of God (I hope that if our relationship has taught him anything it's that God isn't the best thing to put your faith in). I do not believe he is in search of justice, either. He does not live a life fueled with revenge.
No, he is a different kind entirely. He knows what is right, he knows what the greater good is, and he dedicates his whole existence to fighting for it.
This, I think, is why my father chose me to save him. Because he is righteous, because I'd know he'd be worth saving. And he was. I am reminded of why I saved him every single day: when he laughs; when he risks himself to help his family; when he kisses me; when he smiles that special smile that lets you know he's truly happy.
And in some ways, it is not I who saved him, but he who saved me. I fell, and he caught me. Everyone turned their backs to me, but he stayed loyal. I was cursed, and still he remained by my side.
He is the righteous man. I am his guardian angel. I am his savior, and he is mine; without him, I am nothing. And I intend to wrap my wings around my righteous man and never let go, no matter how far it makes me fall.