I DON'T KNOW WHY

"Good morning! You know what? I do this every morning."

He was leaving the gas station convenience store. I was pumping gas. 

I felt compelled to ask the question he wanted: "Do what?"

He stopped walking and lifted the plastic bag in his hand. "Buy two big cans of cheap beer. Better than coffee to start a morning!"

And just like that, he shared his greatest burden with a complete stranger.

"You know what else?" He stood where he had stopped. 

"What's that?"

A broad smile swept across his face. "I don't know why I do it!" It was like he had told a joke. "I am the one doing it, but I don't know why."

I don't think there is anything I could have said that would have made a difference, but I still feel guilty for not saying SOMETHING as he turned and walked towards his vehicle.

God help him. I hope he is able to put a name to it some day. 

Without naming a thing, there is little hope of exercising authority over it.