Tonight, a friend needed me.
The day was coming to an end when we met up; couples were ending their Valentine's dinner, and restaurants and stores were locking up. It was pouring rain. Bitter, icy rain.
We sat in the back of the book store, away from the people, away from the pattering of the rain.
We talked for a little while as Celine Dion played softly through the speakers of Barnes and Noble. Then my friend opened up a notebook/binder. He showed me little drawings and let me read, for the first time ever, his writing.
I read with trembling fingers; I read with watery eyes. I felt his pain. After years of knowing him, I finally saw the most important aspect of my friend: his heart.
I appreciated and loved every work, every line, every drawing, every etch mark, every emotion.
Though I didn't realize it until I got home...
For him to allow me to read his writing,
I could not have asked for a sweeter, meaningful ending to my Valentine's Day.
