Not a woman like I initially thought.
Asked me about my shoes that he thought were Keds.
My grey Chuck Taylors.
I told him they were comfortable and he said he could tell.
I liked him so much even before he spoke to me.
If I were old I would have liked him to be my husband.
Lots of grey hair and a small, kind face.
He looked like the character in a page of my childhood jumbo coloring book about a safety dog.
He wore large white tennis shoes.
Much too large for how slight he was.
He was waiting to get chemo.
But no one seemed to realize he was there.
He was used to getting his treatment on a different floor.
Only his regular doctor wasn't in.
I wanted to make sure he was taken care of.
Much like I would if we were married.
He was the husband of my future self.
I would have put him in my pocket and taken him everywhere with me.
I worried about him all day.
My mother and I went to a different hospital room and played a hundred rounds of UNO.
When we returned and passed the waiting room the man was gone.
I should have spoken to him more.
I hope that he was taken care of that day and for the rest of his life.
I felt so close to him.
He was alone without me.