Came across an acquaintance today.

He seeks love like an outcast seeks food in the dump outside the city limits. Bits of soiled food in torn, shiny wrappers...he is beyond caring if it is bad for him. Hunger will kill him that much he is sure of. Nobody really cares but still for the sake of old associations and appearances, they try to tell him its not love, that it won’t do him any good. But his face is lit up with an almost desperate excitement. There is a fragility and neediness in his eyes. The loneliness of all these years; the sadness of living with his mistakes and the hope that never dies…its all in his face. Its heavy to be with him. Its easy to dismiss him as an idiot who messed up his life, but in a rare moment of empathy, one can see that bad luck can curse just about anyone. Well, maybe he will find the happiness that he seeks with her.