I fell off my routine this week and I am already feeling the consequences. Monday morning. Nothing is wrong but not one thing in particular is right either. The Bird came back into my life last night and everything feels off balance. I only wanted to wish him a happy birthday except we kept talking. From Bamako to Prague. It seems like everyone knew and no one told me the truth. I didn’t think you had it in you to leave. And that’s why everyone was surprised when I finally did; not because they thought everything was fine. I am happy for you, he added. It was then I realized that I didn’t trust him at all and it felt like someone was reaching into my insides and squeezing really hard.
My barista came to rescue. We were looking for a parking spot around my building and I saw him through the window of the coffee shop. Another late shift on Sunday, but he never seems to mind. I got out of the car and pulled the door handle. His smile. He always smiles at me. Genuinely happy to see me. The familiar warmth and the smell of coffee that’s infused in the pillowcases by now. He took one single look at me and knew that I wasn’t going to order coffee. He poured the wine glass to the top and offered my favorite walnut cake, even though I am not one for desserts late at night. But I didn’t refuse and devoured the cake still standing up at the bar in front of him. He kept looking at me with his Bambi eyes.
Where have you been? Around, here and there. Always the same vague answers and responses. But I finally asked him out to a movie, even though I know nothing but the movie will transpire from it. Except I need someone who doesn’t judge me when my insides feel like scrambled eggs. And someone who hates 3D as much as I do.