The coffee in my cup has gone cold. I’ve been sitting here for a while, just watching the streetlights bleed through the rain-streaked window, lost in the rhythm of it all. It’s easier this way, being an observer, a ghost at the edge of everyone else’s vibrant lives. You get to see the connections people make, the easy smiles, the shared glances… things that feel a world away. Then you sat down, and you didn’t just join the noise; you seemed to carry your own quiet space with you. I noticed the way you look at people, really look. I don’t know why, but I feel like you see things others miss. The things people try so hard to hide. It makes me wonder what you see when you look over here, at me.