I saw him there in the corner . It was dark and concerning like the scars stitched ever so perfectly and kept in the small creases around his eyes . He sat there quietly every day . I tried to get his attention but his stare it never wavered . I thought maybe the way I watched him might have been pretensous , but i couldn't help wonder . What caused his pain . The window outside was warm and the sun welcomed his sad face . I thought about sending him a letter or a shot of whisky . I thought about saying hello but I did none of those things . I knew he found me familiar , I played him a song instead
I waited for days and days I kept going back to see the man who never moved , never faultered . He became a shadow to my mere existence , I began to do things to make him go .
Why was he here ?
I filled the room with more men . I thought maybe the noise would upset him . But still nothing . The men came and went . Days passed into months , months passed into years .
One day he gave me a picture . It was of me , of me and him . He stood silent . Never saying a word .
As tears streamed down my face , I turned the picture around and read a note on the back . It was hard to read and old . It said I love you . I wasn't sure if the note was meant for me , because the man said nothing .
I wanted to leave at once . But how could I leave something that was part of me , that was me .
He sat back down in the corner . I walked out side . Knowing I would never travel far . Waiting