I am a poor boy too...

One night, a few weeks ago, I was sitting on the bus. It was a dark and stormy night. Not really that stormy, but it was snowing. And I suppose it was dark. Anyway, I was looking around, and I noticed a boy, maybe a couple years younger than me, sitting across the aisle. He was the kind that you'd expect to be a tough guy with a problem with authority and parents. Smoking and buying his midget girlfriend a diamond necklace for their three-day anniversary. With the money he made from selling drugs. Anyway, enough with the generalizing and judging and stuff. I noticed that he looked positively miserable.

He was sitting, leaning against the padded...thing. You know, the one at the front that if people are suddenly lurched across the bus because of atrocious driving, they just sort of bounce off. He was so slouched over, he literally looked like he had, at some point in his life, broken his back. Mr. Hunchback seemed to be trying to get a hold of someone on his shiny cell phone. After about 25 tries, he gave up and slouched over even more, hiding his face.

I was so concerned about him, I seriously considered standing up, walking over, and sitting beside him to tell him that everything will be okay. I really wanted to just give him a hug. I kind of tried to get him to look at me, so I could at least give him a little friendly smile, but he appeared to wallowing so deep in misery that he just stared at the floor and nothing else. I felt terrible. I also felt terrible that it would be weird of me to start talking to him. He, and those sitting around would think that I was creepy. This really makes me sad! To think that a word or two of comfort to a person in obvious pain would be considered odd.

The boy eventually stood up and got off the bus. I watched him walk, slumped over, into the snowy darkness. I still kind of wish that I had said something to him. Poor kid. Maybe next time I see someone who is as miserable-looking as him, I will tell them that they aren't alone in their sadness.