my drunken, homeless angel.

Superman, they call him.

And his eyes misted over as he stared intensely into the wall, a smile playing on his features while he rambled to me about the past. A modern day Bonnie and Clyde, raising hell and falling more and more in love as they challenged the boundaries of the life that lay before them.

Alcohol poisoning, he said. And now he wakes up every day and faces life without her. Six years, he told me. Six years and all he does is get older without her. How do you move on? Everyone tells me to move on. His gaze penetrated me and I could feel my heart reach out to him as tears threatened my own eyes.

Some mornings the music would come on and you just make gestures, he said. Anything to make her laugh. How do you move on when you know you'll never find another like her? Nobody else makes you feel like that.

I sat by the lake the other day, wondering why it had to be that she couldn't see the beauty with me. It's my birthday today, you know. It's just that it hurts. You have to wonder why it hurts so bad. But I listen, every day. Just listen.

I stopped doing games at the carnival, he told me. Used to do that with my wife. But now I just do rides. I'm homeless, you know.

And the kindest eyes I've ever seen stared deep in my soul, and neither of us knows the answers.

He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and gave it to me. A gift from someone who has nothing, and the warmth of this moment means everything. Peace and love, that's what we need.

His eyes smiled into mine through the tears.

You just gotta learn to love everyone.

And my heart hurts, and life is such a tragedy.