Too fragile for the world

San Francisco, May 2013: My friend in Holland used to phrase it really well: “You’re too fragile for the world sometimes”. And then he’d pretend to zip me up in a magical & invisible suit that would protect me throughout the next 24 hours. I guess I was in desperate need or one today, but the magical suit was nowhere to be found.

Walked down 18th street in the morning, completely hidden behind boxes of Dopper bottles that I tried to carry downhill – perhaps the metaphor for how I was feeling; swamped and overwhelmed, with tears running down my face yet not entirely sure what all the sadness was about. Sat down at Dolores Park Cafe to relax for a second and take a break. While actively wondering how to go about taking this day one hour at a time, a guy passed the terrace on his bike. It was one of those cool dudes; baseball cap, sneakers, vintage bicycle.

He stopped in front of my table and seemed to be folding something with his hands that I couldn’t see. Then he stepped forward and put a few little flowers he must’ve just plucked somewhere on the box, gave his probably most empathetic look, didn’t say anything and drove off.

The loveliness..
Smiling, I wrapped them up carefully and continued down the street a while later. When I reached my destination two blocks down, he passed by again and stopped next to where I was loading more boxes into a cab.
“My name is Clayton,” he said.
“I’m Irene. Thanks. You cheered me up.”
“Good, I hope you’ll feel better.”
And off again.

You gotta love.
I’ll be good without the magical suit for a while longer – the flowers are next to my desk light; very visible & real. #peoplearekind


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