Paris in the Rain

We sat there looking at each other.
Wondering but not speaking.
Feeling but denying.
His eyes carried so much hurt.
When I asked him who he was
he could not answer me.

There is something so dangerous about
giving the most important parts of yourself
to people who try their very best to shield
you from who they are.

To be truthful, there is nothing in him that I could not handle.

But here I am.
Sitting alone.

Wondering if this is what Paris in the rain feels like.

The city of love, dripping in a
coldness you can't shake.

And a yearning for a warmth from
someone you don't know like you thought
you did.