I see him in his car outside my house late at night
12:30am the clock reads as I sit by my window and stare at him just out there in the cold.
He's smoking again.
He always smokes and I wonder if he knows he's killing himself.
I wonder if he even cares at all though.
Why does he do it?
I always wonder, I want to understand him, I want him to let me in, I want to help.
I want this and that but it can't be all about what I want...
It has to do everything with him and nothing to do with me and I can't force him to tell me anything
Sometimes people are just a mystery or an open book in a different dialect, they just need the right person to figure them out.
YOU ARE READING
Just hold on
Short StoryTwo broken lost souls trying to find their place in this world so desperate to piece each other together, trying so desperately to hold on to each other even if in the end it all ends in ruins Sometimes all you can do is hold on and move on
