Pity?

As I waited under the unusually crowded shed across my office, a familiar face emerged and stood out of the sea of strangers I was in. He was one of the blue-collars working inside our office. I have to admit that at first glance, I didn't like him. But as time passed, my interest in him grew.

I do not know his name or where he came from. Neither do I know how his voice sounds like. All I know is he works at the office, and I see him each and every day that passes.

Standing at a distance, I stole small glimpses to appease my urge to at least know his name. I found it a little humorous that as I was silently checking him out, he was furtively staring at the pretty girl standing near him. I chuckled a little bit because of how awkward the situation was. He never paid attention to my presence, and soon after, he caught a ride home. As soon as he left, my knees started to tremble uncontrollably. Trying to strengthen my weakened knees, I stepped backwards and looked at the pretty girl that he was sighting.

I felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. I questioned what I was really feeling: attraction, or just plain pity. And if it was a wrong kind of mercy, was it for him, or for myself?