There are many reasons I find to place a pencil to paper and express the small and hidden places. To choose one alone could not, or will not be a true identification of my desires to purge and become one with my feelings. Yet I can explain situations and devour the page with all that encompasses me, a little insight into why I am.
Recently, I came to a point in my walk where I stopped to await my turn in the flow of this crossroad named traffic. Across the road, directly in front of me, stood a woman that clearly seemed lost and so alone. She looked on the brink of tears. I knew that by the look on her face,her thoughts were dwelling on that impossible situation, the one in which she believed she was facing alone.
We may falter at times and believe that we are alone and no one cares, but we are never truly alone. The woman may never cross my path again, may never recall my face or that we shared this time. But I know that for the second she glanced my way, and I smiled at her, we connected, and for one profound moment she was not alone.
Just Me
