He was broken. I saw a lot of myself in him. We were broken in the same ways but for different reasons. I could tell he had never been loved. I don’t mean loved romantically or loved by family but loved by someone who wasn’t obligated to love you. Loved by someone who sees you, sees your brightest points and darkest moments. Loved by someone who feels you even when you haven’t said a word. I connected with his unhappiness and unspoken pain but I knew I was invading his privacy. He didn’t say much. We didn’t say much. Our silence was enough.
I felt the release of his stress in our kiss, the letting go of fear in our hugs, the absolution of pain in our touch. I saw him, I felt him, I knew him. He was my reflection. He said nothing, we said nothing. We walked away with so much left unspoken. I can only hope I provided as much solace for his pain as he did mine.