self. help.

it was a gift she gave him. a kick in the chest. a test. what will you do with this bleeding heart?

he laid there thinking about it. the question it begged. what now?

two ways to go. the choice he had read about in a book his friend had loaned him. "trust me," the friend had said, hand on his shoulder, "this book will change your life."

the book hadn't changed his life, but he had read it anyway. he kept waiting for it. the change. wondering what it would feel like. would you no longer look the same? would the people you greet look at you in confusion, "do I know you?"

"no, you don't, I've changed. it was the book."

but that didn't happen. everyone said, "hey, how's it goin?" he didn't know the answer.

a book had changed his friend's life. what was going to change his? this perhaps.

perhaps.

or perhaps he needed to find the right book.

he went to the bookstore.

he looked at the covers and he flipped through the pages. he shut his eyes and reached out his hand, expecting fate to metalize the book and magnetize his hand. nope. empty handed.

boo hoo. poor me. he sang to no one in particular.

he left the bookstore. still the same.

he went to the donut shop. he ordered a plain glazed and a cup of black coffee. he pulled the change from his pocket. just enough for the bitter sweet.

he sat by the window watching the day change. a dog lifted its leg. a woman adjusted her bra strap. a boy kicked a cone. he chewed and he sipped and he watched. he forgot to feel sad. he was just busy watching the light fade through the day, the leaves acknowledge the breeze. everything seemed fine. and then he wondered, is someone watching me? he liked the thought of being a part of someone else's observation. to them he probably seemed fine. no devastation. no end of the world. just a guy having a cup of coffee. and he was, wasn't he? sure he was the poor pathetic dude who had been dumped a few months back. but wasn't he also the guy sitting in the butter yellow booth, wearing a hunter's cap, holding a styrofoam cup? wasn't he the guy who seemed to be having a perfectly lovely day?

yes. he was.

and there it was. no book necessary.