I’m struck by the sudden feeling that, really, I couldn’t do much better than this woman and her kindness. Her soft, strong spirit. Her friendship—the way she looks at me and waits. Listens. Here if I wanted to talk. Always here. Someone we rely on for a hundred things and never thank. Someone who never complains or contempts. She’s lovely. And I hate that I’ve noticed. Because now I have to walk away. And stay away.
