Sitting

He sat alone.


He sat sad.

He thought about all the mistakes he made. All the regrets he had. All the things he would do differently if he could go back. All the different people he didn’t thank enough. He thought about the silences of friends once close, now lost to worst-case imaginings. He must have done something wrong for them not to talk with him anymore. And the pigeons circled his feet as he dropped breadcrumbs out of obligation. There was nothing else to do with breadcrumbs but let them drop and fall down.

Then she sat next to him.

He heard her breathe.

And he felt her leg bump into his.

Her hand found his elbow, and squeezed around his arm into a hug.

And he was not alone anymore.

And he was not sad anymore.

And he would sit there forever with her, because his life was good with her.