"Humans lack good mirrors. It's so hard for anyone to show us how we look, and so hard for us to show anyone how we feel." -Mr. Jacobsen (Paper towns by John Green)

As his coffin was lowered, his mother and younger sister cried their eyes out but I simply stood there and watched. Quietly. Everyone else was slowly leaving. It's fascinating that we'll all end up six feet under, one way or another.

"Kathleen," Anita said dubbing her eyes with a white handkerchief, "Thank you for always loving my son."

Nadia had her head on her mother's shoulder and you could see the dark circles around her puffy eyes. More than anything, I felt sorry for her. Todd was the only father figure she had.

"Always," I replied hugging both of them. "Take care of yourselves."

I drove away from the cemetery with my windows down, letting the Spring fresh air relax my tight lungs. The hole in my gut felt like a slow pulse and I tried not to focus on it. I drove along Rue Berri, turned on St. Catherine E and parked two streets down from il PANINO.

"I'll have a Latte au caramel please," I said once I got to the front. They were my favourite cafe spot. I'd discovered them three months ago when I needed to get my phone fixed.

Latte in hand, I sat close to the window and placed my latest read in front of me, flipping through the pages and letting the taste of hot caramel coffee sooth my nerves.

"Is this seat taken?" I looked up from my book and locked eyes with Nick, from the phone repair shop. 

"Uh-no," I replied.

"Your phone seems to have survived the last three months perfectly," he said eyeing it from across the table.

"Yes it did," I said smiling and closing my book.

"And you still have the same necklace," he said pointing to my custom-made infinity chain.

"It was a gift," I said touching it nostalgically.

"It's beautiful," he said, actually looking at me.

It thrilled me that for the first time in two years, I was pleased to actually be complimented. Genuinely. And I cherished each moment as I sat there with someone who knew nothing of my past. It really was a breath of fresh air.