Alone
He looks from his usual spot in the front, studying his surroundings for the seventeenth time since he came today. The bright wooden pulpit is still up front and that familiar book is still perched on the top of it.
He turns his head slowly and stares at the door, longing evident in his deep brown eyes. He sighs and quietly turns back towards the front of the grand building, hunching over and hiding his face. Inside he is burning; his heart aches and his stomach feels like a boulder, weighing him down.
Outside, however, is completely different. He doesn't let anyone see inside of his heart, for fear of another great loss. He has trained himself to show little emotion, so many call him apathetic. Some pay close enough attention to realize the unhappiness in his person, like the waitress at the Inn; but thinking about her just makes him feel even more distraught.
He sits completely alone in the front pew silently.