she was all alone, i could tell.
and not just during this trip. she was all alone all the time.
i watched her from a few feet away and marveled at how she never once looked at me.
engrossed in her book, in her writing, in her sadness.
she made my heart hurt,
i wanted to go sit beside her and tell her i thought she was pretty, and that maybe we should hang out sometime.
but i didn’t.
i didn’t want to seem weird, even though i am.
i admired her brown coat and blue shoes… her black glasses and high cheekbones.
she wasn’t wearing any jewelry, she especially wasn’t wearing a ring.
and she was just so sad.
i don’t think anyone else around us knew that she was sad,
but i knew.
because sometimes we can see ourselves in strangers.