I don't know how to say or how to state that story . I don't know how to tell the story of that man.

I've seen him there . Every single time I went , every single day .

He sits there , alone , in the same seat . He orders the same drink : Honey milk with cream on top, and the same food : grilled chicken with fries and loads of ketchup _ I guess we have that in common . He sits there and just waits . He waits for something that never seems to happen , or someone that never seems to come . And he follows every customer , as they walk in or out , with hopeful eyes . Some eyes that crave something I still can't figure out . Something he seems to need so much . Something that triggers a part in him that makes his eyes tear up when the wait gets too long and he decides to leave .

My heart breaks every time he starts to leave . It's a painful scenery : He sighs , so long and so deep . He waves to the waiter and pays , never takes the change . He looks around to every person offered to him to see . His eyes tear up . He stands up . Starts to walk away before looking back one last time , crossing the frame of the big glass door then starting to gradually shrink to a dot that sooner fades in the lights of the night .

I'm not usually one to have any interest in other people's lives , but there's something about him that just triggers and teases the neurons in my brain that give birth to curiosity .

All of him would show a wealthy young man , bl