My favorite pastime lately, a pastime that is almost always frowned upon, is to sit down on a bench or small wall, and watch people live their lives. But like the rebel I am, I foolishly chose to ignore and adamantly observe.

Some cry, some laugh, and others charge through like there is no tomorrow.
There are hippies selling overpriced organic products, hookers enticing all ages of all sexes, and business men and women talking and or texting on their smartphones.
These are the normal views.

Then I saw 2 teenagers, walking along. The boy had black hair that was dreadfully in need of a haircut, and the girl seemed pure. Yet strangely, they were both tainted by... something. Something was not right with those two.
They seemed like normal teens -- not yet adults, but not yet kids, either.
In other words, lost. Confused. And on top of all that, in pain.

Seen at a far distance, I saw them buying a baseball bat and baseball, and then moved to the park where the boy was teaching the girl how to play.
They laughed, as if they could never laugh tomorrow.
Then they left the park, where the boy had given his newly bought baseball bat and baseball to some elementary school kids.

Why did you give it to them? We could have come back and played with it again. said the girl.
Shrugging, the boy said, I thought they looked like they wanted it. 


He felt that he wouldn't be able to relax and fun like this again, a feeling that shouldn't be felt, a feeling that was prevented for years. He would be sorry if he gave the girl a memory that would never come true. 

He then held her hand, kissed it, kissed her lips, and said, We'll come again. Don't worry about it.

It probably would have been better if they never met in the first place.