A woman who may or may not have issues with mental stability sat near me at the coffee shop. I had spread my stuff over two tables and apologized. Sorry, do you need this table? No, she said. I'm just waiting for my coffee. I said, I'd just carelessly pushed stuff over there. She said, don't you worry about it.

Then she said, that blazer and shirt, those glasses, you look sharp. You look really sharp.

I smiled and said, thank you. I was surprised how happy and grateful I felt.

No, no, she said, like she could tell I was surprised. Really, you look really, really sharp. She made an okay sign andnodded.

I thanked her again.

She said, I can't remember the last time someone said they loved me. Even when I was married. I mean, that was a long time ago, but still. You know?

She looked about forty, so I wondered what a long time meant to her.

I wanted to tell her I loved her. Mostly because, in that moment, I kind of did. But no, it wasn't possible.

Instead, I said, it's important say that a lot more often.

Yeah, she said. Yeah. You get it.

The barista called her name. A beautiful name I hope really was hers. She got up, got her coffee, talked to the barista, then went out into the street.

I'd say it was the best thing that happened to me today, but I've been showered with love all day long. My cup, it overflows. And really, in this blazer, shirt, and glasses, I look sharp, ready to tell you all that I love you.