I have never been good with introductions. I stammer, bite my tongue by mistake, and sound altogether odd. Even when I’ve waited 8 months to speak with you. I have imagined again and again sitting with that blind man in the park, sharing my lunch and to ask him why he waits. I have imagined Marc walking me to my apartment door, and instead of heading up to his own, I’ll invite him in. But that is my problem. I have watched people for so long that I know them. I know their habits, their daily stops, their smiles and laughs, but never have I stepped forward and extended my hand and friendship. I feel that we are already friends. Even when he doesn’t know my name. I left my apartment today as the girl from the flat below was walking back, but she’s not alone. There he is, walking, breathing, eyes forward for the first time. His eyes are cornflower blue, hers dark with a certain gleam. She’s giggling, egregious, and charming. I fumble with my lock. She grabs at his arm and I want to hide.