Black Coffee Steam

The ring is missing. We are sitting at the kitchen table arguing about it, but they are not shouting at me. I almost wish they were. It would be less painful than this silent disappointment that feels like the weight of the world is bringing me to my knees. I did not mean to lose the ring, it was a symbol of my love and commitment to them. A gold infinite band engraved with their name, Solitude.

When I lost the ring, I felt free. It always held too tight a grip on my finger. It was a constant reminder of my desperate and failed attempts to repair a relationship that was bringing me despair. I thought that if I could glamourise our bond with something shining and beautiful, it would make the reality of the situation appear less harrowing. The ring was meant to convince me that I am okay with Solitude's constant presence, that it is a gift. Now that the ring is gone, I see them for who they truly are – a mockery of my loneliness.

Moving my chair to face them directly, I fill the empty dismay. You have been punishing me ever since I lost the ring, I say. They fix their vision on me, unwavering. You have made me so unhappy. Silence. They know it to be true. My head lowers to the table, a deep exhale emerging from my tired soul. Do you remember when we once found comfort in each other?

As the sun begins to set around us, I reminisce on the dates we planned - and the ones we did not. Our favourite spot was the Parisian café in the city. They held my hand as I trembled my way through the crowded streets of families and lovers. The moment we stepped through the French doors, we both could breathe. Out went our grief and in came a handful of peace.

Endless black coffees, we drank together. Silently reading our books and eating apple pie. We walked around art galleries, we tried on perfumes we could not afford. We managed to find joy within a relationship that was cursed. But, it was not always romantic. One evening, we put on our jewels and watched a theatre performance of Bonnie and Clyde. You know, a pair so inseparable they could only die together? When I put my keys through the door, I crumbled. All of the time we had spent together, I was convincing myself that they were good for me. That I was not lonely with them constantly by my side. And they were by my side that night, watching all of my grief pour out of me like a black puddle, gasping for air, for some life. And you just watched me die.

The air is dark and dense, they ask me if I will replace the ring. I tell them that I do not need a gold ring engraved with their name to prove my commitment to them. They are bound to my skin, whether I love them or not. I cannot rid myself of them, even if I choose to. You have been with me from the day I first opened my eyes to the world, and you will be with me when I close them. But they cannot be all that I have with me. There is more for us to see, cities and seas and words on a page. And we will see it all. Though, I desire to share my life with other beings. To find someone so special, I want to birth their child. There is a life waiting for me that Solitude is blocking the path to.

They have never left me, and I will never leave you. But, there needs to be enough distance between us to make room for others to enrich our life. Never will I forget the times we have shared, the memories we have made, the distractions from the pain. But, we are not good for each other at the moment. I will be waiting for you, holding a cup of steaming black coffee. We will speak of our adventures until the steam fades into the air, and we forget we were ever alone.