He sat with me before class, and we talked a bit more, although it was not quite the same as last time....this meeting lacked the privacy of Monday (after all, we were in the middle of the English department between classes, NOT in his private smoking area). I got him to talk a bit about his passions. His smiles feel rare and beautiful, and it warms my heart to experience them. His hand was swathed in bandages, and I wanted nothing more than to take care of him, to make him feel better. (It's a strange weakness of mine. I always say that I'm not cut out to be a mother, but whenever I see someone I care about in an injured state (even if they're just sick), I feel this overwhelming urge to "mother them". Curse these maternal instincts!