It's quiet here.
A cozy, dark corner in a favorite cafe.
I had been running around nonstop.
Needed a few minutes for myself.
Needed to think.
Needed to breathe.
Steam from the coffee in front of me wafting lazily,
Thin threads of moisture and bitter heat dangling in midair.
I look up from my reading,
See a very soft and feminine smile,
Round features framed in thin blonde threads
Falling lazily across a pale and attractive face.
If her lashes were any longer they would kiss her nose.
I enjoy the freckles that lightly brush her cheeks.
She says hi.
Remembers me from some performances.
I guess we had talked before.
Honestly, I don't remember her or our conversation.
I don't want to offend her, though.
I ask how she's doing.
She nervously brushes her hair back behind her ear.
Long, thin fingers.
She could easily play piano.
I see the smooth indentation on her ring finger,
a physical reminder of a wedding band that is conspicuously absent.
It took a long time for my reminder to fade.
I wonder how long it has been for her.
Then I see her eyes;
Not very long.
The things behind her eyes will take longer to heal.
But they will.
She will change.
Will become someone different.
But she'll learn to live again.
Will learn to breathe.
She tells me quietly and vaguely about her life.
Says there have been so many changes lately.
I know.
She and her sons relax nightly to my music.
She says it's crazy, because when listening she thinks that I must understand.
I do.
She doesn't tell me what is that I should understand.
But I know.
She looks at her feet, asks if I think she's just some crazy lady who's annoying a stranger.
"No."
You're not crazy. You're in pain.
You're not annoying. You're reaching out to someone, anyone, to make a connection with, because your
life has turned upside down, and the person who you have been the closest to is gone.
Your world no longer makes sense.
You're not crazy.
You'll smile again. It won't feel the same as before.
That's ok.
Maybe next time it will be better.
Now I wonder if I have been projecting my past onto her through my thoughts.
Seeing things that aren't there.
Maybe I'm the one who's nuts. I almost start laughing at myself.
She asks if she can tell me something.
"Of course."
"I'm... I'm getting divorced and everyone tells me you're kind, and have been there. I just need
someone to talk to."
I stand up and hug her tightly.
Tears falling onto my shoulder.
Long, long talk.
She will smile again.
Later I will write a song about her future,
About the day that her smile will reach her eyes again.
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