Lil-Angel78

Everytime she went downtown with him, she’d hold his hand extra tight. For some silly reason, she was always afraid they’d seperate and she wouldn’t find him. He didn’t have a cell phone, even after she had tried, for months, to convince him to get one. When they were walking on the busy sidewalks, they never spoke. There was too much to see and hear for them to lose themselves in a conversation. But the fact that his hands were curled around his, this subtle body contact, always made her feel closer to him than she usually did. One day, as they were walking across a busy intersection, he turned his face towards her and made eye contact. Her face fell, she was troubled by this sudden gaze in her direction:
“What..? What’s the matter?”

He took a while to answer. After a couple of moments, he turned his gaze back to the sidewalk, the people on their cell phones, the women perched on their dark business heels, the tiny dog that looked more like a big rat, pulled back by a leash twice it’s size.

“Did you ever realise…that all these people. Each and every one of them…”

He began pointing to random passer-bys on the street, and, embarrassed, she pulled his arm down and urged him to continue.

“They’ve all got a story, you know? Like that girl, in the cafe…maybe she’s overworked. And maybe that guy waiting for the green light down the street just got dumped by his girlfriend…or boyfriend. They’re all going somewhere tonight, and we…we don’t know where, we don’t know what they’ll be doing tonight. But you know what scares me most?”

He made eye contact with her again. This made her arms all prickly. Nervously, she turned towards a lime-green scarf she pretended to be interested in.

“What?” She swallowed loudly. She hoped he hadn’t heard that.

“What’s scary is that…we don’t know what they’re thinking. We can pride ourselves on having individual thoughts and talents, but in the end, we’re just like everyone else, because everyone’s got something and thinks things that make them special. So … we’re just random passer-bys to anyone else looking on. A broken heart doesn’t look so bad when you look at the big picture, does it?

She thought about this for a moment. Everything he had said had made sense…well, almost everything.

-There’s something you’re not getting quite right. A broken heart doesn’t seem so bad when you look at the big picture. But who’s picture? The world’s? or our world? Because…we’re living this life and it’s our world that is the most important.”

After this, they never spoke on the busy streets again. And the irony was, she was no longer afraid that he’d let go of her hand. Because she knew he wouldn’t…and even if he did…a lost girl doesn’t look so bad when you look at the big picture.

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