No Wipe

Normally, I don't write about fellow college students, mostly because debbie downers on the sidewalk or on the CTA are far more fascinating than those with struggles at hand during their higher educational years. But today, while awaiting for a friend to depart from class, I had witnessed a fellow student walk passed me with tears dripping down to her chin, eyes opened wide. She didn't dare wipe away her tears, not one bit. She expressed her sorrow to the world, and nobody, including unfortunately myself, seemed to care. Only now as I reflect that I would have offered her a hug.
We all have those days: we tear up over something horrendous, so painful, that our emotional bottle bursts open without us twisting off the cap. We all know someone who's been through that tough shit. Sometimes we question our duties on what to do when they're down in the dumps, and sometimes the best that most of us could possibly do is hug them.
As a resident of Desolation Row, I leave you with this: whenever you witness this person, think of their torment, because we've all had those days. Whether it may be a stranger on the streets or a close relative, we all need that hug, from one human being to another.