Coffee Shop

The warm smells wafted up my nose as I sat waiting for her to make an entrance. I had been sitting there for over fifteen minutes but I couldn’t leave. I was rooted to my seat. I had to see her. It had been five years since we had spoken, and then yesterday, out of the blue she called me and told me that she had gotten a new job in New York and wanted to fix things from her past.

I watched the barista whip up espressos for impatient business men who never had time to just sit and relax, always on the move. Me though, I wasn’t like that, the large and in charge type who was never close to anyone but their blackberry’s. I had conversations with people, looked them in the eyes when we talked, gave advice. Maybe that’s why she had asked to meet up with me today, for advice. I knew not to expect anything from meeting with her today. I had waited too long for her to tell me she was sorry, and I only ended up hurting myself. Maybe we could be friends after all.

The moment I looked up though as the Christmas bell on the top of Starbucks’s door rang, I knew it was impossible. Even though I was only 22, I knew I had fallen too hard for her and I couldn’t escape it. It’s not like she trapped me in this love net, I had done this to myself, which was the worst part. I tried to date other girls and none seemed to work out. They would never measure up to her.

Her walk, slow but she held herself tall, immediately had the room’s attention, but she didn’t need it. I was already gawking at her radiating from across the room. How could I not miss her after she left. One day she just picked up from out pitiful apartment and told me that she needed to go find herself. Well I’m not going to lie, I like this new her, from what I can see. She was still the same old Lisa I knew from high school, the blond hair, pulled back into a professional looking bun at the nape of her neck, and those gorgeous blue eyes, that made me think of the Caribbean blue she had made me paint our bedroom in the apartment I was still living in.  I had done that for her because that was the one place she wanted to go to, but we couldn’t afford it on our minimum wage salaries. It would take years to save up.

I still dream about her sometimes while I’m falling asleep at night, along with the taxi’s horns blasting for the idiots who just cannot get the hang of driving in the city. Her soft hair tickling my nose and how it always smelled like lavender. My skin would tingle as I wrapped my arms around her soft warm body and pulled her closer to me.

Maybe I wouldn’t have to dream about it anymore. Maybe I could have it all back today.



One thought on “Coffee Shop

  1. Kavish Vather says:

    Brilliantly written and beautifully expressed. I enjoyed the adventure of this read. Keep ’em coming!

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