There was no way I could make her happy. The only sympathy I could offer her was my shoulder. A place where her black tears could dry on my collared shirt. How could I numb her pain. I couldn't tell her "this is not the right place" or "people are looking." Feelings aren't meant to be bottled up inside I figured but relinquished like the make up leaking down on her cheek. At that moment I had theΒ privilege of witnessing the uncovered human in her.