A Meeting

 When we met, I was already making moves to close the doors between me and the world.  She didn't recognize me, but I recognized her.  Those eyes. That smile.  Her colors reminded me of sunshine and chocolate.  

I was fifteen, and she was twenty.  Most of the students never really talked to me because I watched the football games with my Dad and Dr. Harmon.  I saw her, though.  I remembered.  

I would see her again through the years.  Where she worked.  Where she worshiped.  A child came, then two.  I stopped seeing the father with them.  He was missing out.

Bringing me someone new when I was trying not to have anyone or anything that I had to hold on to was probably cruel.  It seemed so.  Maybe she was a lure.  Trying to bring me back into the world when I didn't want to.   

"Sometimes, I wish there was more help."  She said.  That wasn't really very fair, was it?  A mother of two, trying her best alone, with those eyes.  "Sometimes, I need help."

"I can help.  I think.  I mean, I wasn't planning on this, but I can help.  I think."  And my plans to leave the world were put off.  "Keep pushing until those girls are through college," I thought.  Then my obligation will be complete.  "How hard can that be?"  I thought.