Heartstrings
I was hugging the toilet in the bar, and you graciously came over and held my hair back, murmuring "You'll be okay" again and again while I retched and heaved. In hindsight, it was kind of a strange thing for a guy to do, but I was in no position to question it at the time.
You had no way of knowing I hadn't had a drink, that I was on an infrequent night on the town as I battled the effects of the chemo, but you made it a point to be sure I was okay. You sat with me for two hours, not saying a word, just sitting with me. As I finally, shakingly staggered to my feet, you guided me back out into the bar. "You with people?" you asked. "No, just me. Workaholic bachelor." "I'll call you a cab then." And you waited with me until it came.
As the cabbie drove me home, I kept thinking how kind the world can be sometimes if you let it, and, when it came down to it, how much I loved you with all my heart, though I'll probably never see you again.