Broken

I walked into the coffee shop and sat down. I don't know why. I'm not a coffee girl.

The guy was there before me. And had obviously been on the phone for awhile. "I don't need a girlfriend, " he said. "Why would you say that?

"If you think that, then you don't know me like I thought you did.

"I don't need a girlfriend!"

He slowly removed the phone from his ear, looked at it in disbelief, and laid it on his table. "I need you." 

Then he put his face in his hands and wept.

I sat there, one table removed, one life separated from another by a piece of furniture, and shared his grief, his pain. He didn't know I was there. I didn't care.