"I'm afraid."

You said that to me, that day.....the day when you turned, looking down at me, such a demanding stature....and yet so unsure. Had you always looked so small? Even though you were towering over me - 6 foot, maybe more? - you seemed so unsure. So small....

"I'm afraid she'll leave me. I'm afraid she'll find someone better."

You confessed that to me - eyes avoiding my own. You were deep in thought. I was surprised. You, afraid? How could that be?

"I love her. And I know she loves me. It's just....."

Your voice so small....so small. For such a tall figure, such a small voice. Such uncertainty.

"Well...." My voice came out - surely it was my own voice - "If she really loves you.....then she won't just leave you for someone else...."

You looked at me then. Really looked at me. Like you were trying to understand what I said. And I looked back, not trying to understand words, but instead I tried to understand you. How you could possibly have these uncertainties.

And yet you were just as insecure as me. No matter how you may interpret it.....you were just like me.

I think a small part of me loved you more that day. Not the kind of love your girlfriend had, but an understanding kind of love. Maybe I didn't need a boyfriend love for every guy I knew. Maybe this kind of love - understanding people - that kind of love? Maybe that was enough.

You're still afraid. My words had no effect on you. I'm not one to talk about relationships - my own pattern has broken - but maybe I got to you that day. Even if I didn't, you got to me. You got to me in a way I never knew a person could.