Sunday, June 3, 2012

I want to write of Her smile. I want to see Her smile. It's all I want. It's all that needs to happen. It's all I need.

But I sit across from Her in One World Cafe and watch as She slowly scoops a few black beans and an olive from Her vegan quesadilla onto Her fork, then stops.

The motion ceases.

And all of a sudden there are tears streaming down Her cheeks. They stream down and drip onto the green button down She's wearing. They make dark circles on Her green button down.

I tell Her to look at me. That things will get better from here. That the worst is over.

But the tears are relentless. They form and fall with such ease. With such efficiency.

The waitress approaches and slows as she realizes what's taking place. That she's walking into something painful.

I try to grin at her. I don't know what expression I manage. Something strained and pitiful, I'm sure.

She asks if I'm finished and I nod my head. Throw my napkin on the remaining tortilla chips. She takes my plate, but leaves the quesadilla sitting before Her. With the black beans and olive still on the fork. With the tears still falling.

With me still praying for that smile.

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