We sat outside
under the awning, watching
people walk by
half-bundled against the wind
"I'm scared," she said
under the directionless light
filtered through clouds
and a smell of rain to come
"Thank you for the coffee," she said
I could tell she wanted to say more
afraid to reach out
afraid of my reaction
just afraid, and hurting,
she tried
I tried too,
spoke of memories and plans
museums and mountains
cross-country travel
all of which she soaked up,
both of us trying so hard
Bleeding our fear and pain into
the cold hazy afternoon
At the bus stop, she hugged me
goodbye
Notes: Semi-fictional.