The woman watched him from a distance, sitting on a hill away from him. She placed her head in her hands, eyes gently watching him with a pure gaze. That poor man, she thought. She didn't need to know him or his history. Her empathy was strong. She felt the frustration; she could taste it, smell it, breath it. She wondered why he was so upset. She wanted to know why he was feeling such bitter pain.
"Excuse me." Her voice delicate like a guitar string being plucked. The man didn't bother looking in her direction.
"Go away," he commanded. The girl blinked before stepping into the water. The man looked at her now, as she plopped into the water next to him. Water splashed on his face and he growled quietly, wiping his face off. They floated next to each other, staring at the stars for what felt like hours before the woman tried again.
"Hello, what's your name?"
"Andrew," he simply responded. His words sounded hollow.
"Andrew. That's a nice name," she complimented him. He made an irritated noise, moving away from her. "What's wrong?" she asked. His eyes widened for a moment. Someone actually cared how he felt? Why he felt this way?
"I...It's none of your business!" he snapped. The woman frowned, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. She looked like she was about to cry.
"You know, talking about it will make you feel better," she informed him. The man sighed, looking back at the night sky.
"I've lost everything again," he whispered. "I'm such a fuck up," he added. He glanced at her through the corner of his eyes.. staring at the tears that rolled down her face. "Why are you crying?" he asked, alarmed.
"It makes me sad, hearing anyone say that. I'm sick of so many people saying negative things about themselves. If you think you are a fuck up, that's all you will ever be. That is what makes me sad." Her voice rang with an actual concerned tone.
"How do you know that!? You don't know me!" the man bolted up, glaring at her.
"Because if you already think you're a failure, why would you try to be anything else?" She looked over at him with a soft smile. The man opened his mouth, but he had nothing to say. She was right, he had given up on himself a long time ago. "I don't think your a fuck up," she told him. "No one is. Some people just get lost from the path they are supposed to be on. You can always change things for yourself. You can change your path, and walk on a different side," she explained to him. "Why are you cut up?" she then asked.
"I got into a fight at the bar," he said ashamed. The woman sat up and placed a hand on a wound across his cheek.
"You should be more careful," she told him, wrapping her jacket in her other hand. She moved and used the water to wipe off the dried blood and dirt. He watched her do so, his eyes getting blurry. Why was a complete stranger being nice to him?
"Why do you even care?" he asked, a bit choked up. The woman looked at him.
"You lost everything right? I've lost everything as well. I can relate; and now, you may have lost everything... but you gained a friend from talking about your disaster that you survived." She smiled so bright that the man broke into tears.
"A friend?" he cried. She nodded her head, pulling him into her arms. He sobbed into her. For the first time in awhile, he felt like his life meant something again.