It’s one of those days. You sit in the coffee shop, watching the endless flow of creatives, students, artists, and business people, eyes cast down and intensly focused.
You want to feel part of it all and yet you want to feel safe in your isolation. You see couples, hands draped on one another, and you start to feel that familiar pull. What would it feel like to be with him, just one more time? What would it hurt to tell him how much he hurt you — to break that silence that you worked so hard to build up? How much is catharsis really worth to you?
