Every day when I put my books in my locker, my lunch in the fridge and sit on the couch to review for class I see you and him. Last year I thought you were a student. But you never have a bookbag. or books. I see him in class, but not you. No, you always sit in the same chair glowing on his arrival and wilting at his departure. Once I studied in the lounge for four hours, the entire time you sat by yourself, hunched over, looking down, flipping a magazine or playing with your cell phone. Four hours! Is this a probation requirement? Are you unable to find work? Does he force you to come? Or are you jealous and keeping watch? Is it wrong for me to feel sorry for you? Afterall, what's wrong for me may be right for you. Don't you have the right to keep him company between classes and read US Weekly? But I can't help but think of what some would give to have the choices you are choosing not to take. Then again- I don't know you. Perhaps you're an artist waiting for inspiration or a writer seeking a muse. But its over a year now, day after day.... though I am a random soul in the masses, and though my eye may have accidentally caught yours only once I wish I could ask you, Why do you stay in prison when the door is wide open?