I decided to redo this from like.. three years ago, and I thought it came out alot better, but this isn't about what I think about it.  It's just something I wanted to do, hopefully you guys like it.  If ya don't?  Oh well.

There I sat on a bench, in front of Lake Michigan it was so beautiful. Sure, within the sidewalk in front of me it had it's weeds, it's cracks in the cement, but of course everything is going to have their faults. But, to me it was perfect. Sitting there I thought about everything in my life, and to tell you the truth I couldn't tell you what it was, but slowly the tears began to emerge from my eyes. I was a very emotional man. My friends could tell you that. They would tell you about me, and they would make me out to be some great guy, but within it all I wasn't. I was no great guy. I was just.. me. I did not pretend to be anything I truly was not. Sure, I talked black at times with my friends. I goofed around a lot. I loved the word 'cunt.' I don't know, but something about that word was just.. cool. Though, it hurt, because I felt as if I was a fake.. a pitiful excuse of a man, because through the smile that cracked across my face many times over, I was broken. I had hide something so deep within myself from the world that it no longer had an explination, and while I wish I could confide in someone like they all do with myself; I cannot.

As I finished wiping my tears, and all that was left was the memory I fixed the hat on my head. Watching as a young man passed me and he seemed he was in his early twenties, or maybe even his late teens. As I saw him walk by I knew his story. I knew the story of everyone just by looking at them. I mean sure we can all hide our scars at times, but never can we keep them hidden forever. This man was easy to figure out though. He was an open book. Was it that he was an open book though? It was something that I never figured out, and never truly understood, because as I looked at the few who stood before me, I knew all of their stories, I knew everything about them, and within one conversation you couldn't hide it from me. Some would think it was a gift, but to me it was nothing of the sort; a curse.

This man slightly overweight thought of himself to be fat, and sure he wasn't no supermodel, but he thought of himself to be down right ugly. Always putting himself and his appearance down. He had a subtle walk with a bit 'umph' in it. He was a man who cared deeply for his friends, even more so then he cared for himself. He would help them all. Their problems always became his problems, but to him it was not an inconveince for him. But, rather he felt as if it were his duty. Not because he was their friend, or because he could tell them how to make it better, but because he didn't like to see people hurt.

No matter the problem. It didn't matter what the problem was and it went beyond those said subjects. But, as I watched him walk away I could tell more about him. I could tell he was a man filled with passion. He loved what he did, and he loved the people around him. He loved his foul mouthed friends. He loved his cat. He loved everything around him, but one thing. Himself. There was something about himself he didn't like, and he would continually put himself down. He was an easily depressed man. Sure, when she was around he was the happiest man to ever live. Nothing could bring him down. But, the moment she had to go. He was dead within himself; helpless. He didn't stand a chance, it was him against the world, and there was no one in the world who could save him from the personal hell he had caused himself. Sure, he had his moments. He could get the whole world laughing. But, while they were laughing he was a man who still couldn't feel. He was a man who cared not about himself, but his best friend. His friends. The one person he loved in the world. Sure, you have your friends you love, and then there is that person you're head over heels in love with, I guess it's hard to explain for this man. I mean to him love is something very special. He couldn't say the words right out. And, I worried about this man. I really did. I mean I thought he might do something. It's just one of those things. You look at him, and just.. know. You just know what is going on in his mind. This man was an open book. And, for many they may see it as a good, maybe even great thing. But, for him...it was more than that. It was...bad. In the sense that he could lie to her. He could tell her he was fine, but at a snap of a finger she would know different. She could in a sense.. read him like a book.

For some reason, I stood to my feet on that chilly, windy day, and walked right behind him, so close, examing every part of him before I finally put my hand on his shoulder, and the man tugged away, and gave me a scolding look, and I lowered my head at him.

"What do you want?"

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He said with a voice that had nothing, but hatred within it, "What's it to ya!?"

"I just got this.. feeling, ya know? You seem as if.."

"Don't judge me, don't try and read me old man. You've never even met before this moment, what makes you think you know my life story?"

"You're right, man. I don't know you, and I don't know what you're thinking at this very moment, at that. But, lemme ask you something kiddo, are you in love?"

".. what the hell are you doing?"

"Answer the question." I said in a stern voice.

"I don't know?"

The look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know, and I could do nothing, but smile at him, and nod.

"You can't let the feces of this absurd joke has put upon us get to ya. It's all gonna be worth it, kid."

"..."

"I see the anger in your eyes." Though, I saw nothing of the sort. In reality, what I saw was the lost young man that I assumed previously, but who was I to tell him that he gave it all away? "I'm not here to anger you, I just want to help you, like you help them."

His eyes got wide, and said nothing else, he simply walked away, and did so in a hurry, but I expected it. I'm nothing to him, but a stranger, an old man who has no idea what he's going through, but I do know what he's going through, and I understand his pain. I understood it all too well. Turning to the aquarium, I soon began to make my way towards the building, and I could feel his eyes now burning a whole through my body, and maybe he realized the truth; maybe he didn't. I was not here to tell him all the answers to the questions.

I'm no savior - not even to myself.

Live a simple life my friend - there is no other alternative.