I noticed them crying while I was on my walk… something that I don’t even do often, yet in my own mind, wish I did on the daily. As I start to approach, I realize, this too is something I would not do on the regular. Ask a stranger what is the matter? How do I even begin to ask the question? What will come of this conversation? Will I need to care for them, become their friend, gain their trust? Do I even care about any of those things? Suddenly a feeling of anxiety rushes over me and I feel paralyzed. My throat closes up and my eyes begin to water. As I get within a few feet of this sitting, crying human, my standing figure casts a shadow. I suddenly start to shiver as the warmth of the sun vanishes. The person crying looks up, and it is me. I am the one crying under the willow tree. Desperate for human connection. Desperate for a feeling. I stare up to the silhouette of someone asking if “I’m okay”. I try to open my eyes and make clarity through the fog, but it’s hard to focus. I fumble with my thoughts for a moment… not sure what to reveal. All I can say, like many of us do is “I’m fine, thanks”… “how are you?”.