Worth

Shuffling, I pushed the button and stopped. I cringe at the tears pouring down my face, as a poorly dress man approached. I barely noticed as I stood and waited. I felt his eyes on me as I stared forward, so I turned, not in the mood for this type of intrusion.

"What, speak sir." Rather he pulled out a ratty notebook, but also put a finger up as if to tell me to wait. Then he handed me it quickly. Words, scrawled so quickly that I had to take a second.

I'm mute. Nothing has ever been fixed by staying silent,

Such advice from a mute? Irony buckled.

I stared at these words, and then back at him. On sodden paper, he had offered them up so generously to me. I pondered the fragile essence between my fingers. I looked back up at him.

"But you do not speak, how could you offer such advice?"

His toothy grin looked back down at his notebook. I waited as I heard the frantic scribbling.

Just because I am not vocal by your definition, does not mean I do not communicate.

He looked back down at the notebook, and quickly wrote more.

Why are you so sad, my child?

His eyes told a depth of empathy, though he did not know the source of my pain.

"Have you ever loved?" He nodded, sullenly. "Have you ever lost. " His eyes went quickly away.

I put my hand on his shoulder. He continued to avoid eye contact.

"Could it ever be resolved?"

He shrugged, but eventually he nodded. One bandaged hand, traipsed against his worn face.

"Will you try again?"

He looked at me. His blue eyes almost searching for something.

"Would it help you to know why I am afraid?"

He went back to pen and paper.

Have you loved, also?

"No. Wait, possibly. Ok. I don't know."

His eyebrows lifted in question.

I shrugged my arms in hopeless despair. "I have always hoped for love with each person I have been close to. But it has never proffered more than a broken heart. I suppose in some ways, I always hoped it would just happen. But, nowadays it feels like a job. I just wish the people who say they love me, would actually be there for the bad times. Instead, I'm crying in the rain, sort of conversing with a stranger."

The walk sign flickered suddenly across the street. We silently started to cross. When we got across the street, he turned to me and gazed down again.

He brought out the book again.

You will be fine. If anything, same time tomorrow?

He started to walk away, but without hesistancy, I called out. "Hey!"

He turned and stopped so suddenly. I thought my bravery was going to forgo me.

"Would you possibly like to get some coffee? I'd like very much so to continue this conversation and I know a great spot down the way."

A different softness appear in his eyes. "I'd be delighted," he said as he turned away.

I stood shocked for a second before I yelled at his disappearing figure, "I thought you were a mute?"

Fading quickly into the shadows of the dark, he lifts his hand as a goodbye, "Only until I find something worth saying."