A Coffee Date with Me (v. 2019)

Even though it's the same cafe as always, I start to appreciate things about it that I didn't before. The brick walls, the heritage aesthetic, the posters on the walls, the bulletin board honouring a girl that passed away many years ago now.

Waiting patiently for my date to arrive, I study the place. It is a beautiful little coffee house, one that I wish I had spent more time in. I made memories here, with friends and family. I used to spend a day per week here with my mother, and it became one of my favourite places.

In my time, this place is closed. I am having this date before the storm hits, before the chaos starts that leaves most businesses to drown. Some remain afloat, barely above the surface, but others are damned to sink. This is one of them.

I look to my drink on the counter. I ordered two chai lattes before she arrived, knowing what she would want to drink. I coddle mine in my hands, about to take a sip, when the door chimes.

I look up to her. She's wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a black tank top, and an unbuttoned yellow and black flannel over top. Her nearly platinum bleached hair is wrapped up in a ponytail, with little baby hairs falling around her face.

She looks around the cafe for a moment. She knows I am here, but she doesn't see me at first. With only a couple of other customers inside, she spots me, and just stands for a moment before coming to sit.

She hangs her small winged backpack, decorated with pins, all of which she found at Hot Topic, on the back of her chair before sitting down. It looks nicer than it does in the present. I wonder how she would react if she knew I didn't watch Supernatural anymore, and never got to finishing it.

"Hi," she says, gently. I know she'd naturally be a lot more comfortable, but too much has changed. Her smile is trying to hide the confusion written behind her eyes, but I can see through it.

She finds the cup in front of her and smiles a little more naturally.

"You remembered."

"They are still my favourite drink," I say, a little more quietly than I'd like. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Six years is a long time. "What have you been up to?"

She holds her mug to her lips, blowing on it gently, and raises an eyebrow, "You don't know?"

"I know generally, but I'd like to remember just where you're at. It's been a little while."

She puts the mug down and straightens against the back of her seat. "I'm preparing for the [play] Festival right now. It's been crazy trying to direct it all. I don't know how ready we are, and honestly I was pretty nervous about getting into it, but since I watched [the movie], I've wanted to become a director and I think this is my best shot. But you know all that."

"I do," I mutter.

"I'm planning to go to film school. I'm starting to think more seriously about it."

"Right."

My mind begins to wander. I realize that she hasn't gone through anything yet. She hasn't started her first job. She hasn't met [name] and hasn't gone through [that] yet. Or [that]. Or been hurt by [that]. Her favourite people are still close to her and she still spends time with the friends that haven't left for university yet. She hasn't started life yet. She's still new.

"So... things are a little bit different?" She breaks the silence, hesitantly. "I mean..."

I know what she's talking about. Without needing to say anything, she can tell from my appearance. I'm not exactly what she pictured she would look like in six years.

I've traded her flannel in for a long cardigan, her tank top in for a long shirt, her skinny jeans for a long and flowy skirt.

Where her hair is hastily tied up, still pink in some spots from when she dyed it the last time, mine is carefully pinned underneath a head scarf.

I smile gently, "They are."

She looks uncomfortable, not wanting to ask questions, so I go ahead and answer them instead.

"I know you're agnostic, but it doesn't stay that way. It will for another few years, but eventually you'll find someone who brings you closer to religion, and it'll be one of the best things that has happened to you."

Her brows furrow slightly, and I think I spot her eye twitch. It makes me grin a little.

"Well, that's okay. It's interesting. I know [name] who is Muslim. That's right, right?"

"That's right."

"Did [they]?"

"No. No, it wasn't [them]. It's someone new. You'll meet them pretty soon."

"Okay... What about Mom? Were they—"

"They were good. Everyone's been good."

"Okay... Good."

It's silent for a moment.

"I didn't go to film school," I say, breaking further ice. "I went to [school's name] and got a degree in medical transcription, to prepare for film school, but things didn't work out as planned, and my interests changed."

She refuses to meet my gaze. I reach out and grab her hand. "But this was a good thing. It wasn't what we wanted in the end."

"Okay..." She's skeptical, though not completely closed off.

"We go to school to become a teacher. I'm in my third year now. And even though it's stressful and pretty scary, we're doing good. And we like it."

"Teaching?" She says, sounding almost irritated, but with a small smile. I know she's thinking about [teacher's name], and how teaching has always been in the back of her mind, but she never took it seriously.

"Yeah. We're going to be a high school English and Social teacher."

"Social?"

"I know. It surprised me, too."

We both laugh.

"Okay, well... Um... What about [name]? Do I ever see [them] again?"

I sigh, "You do, but eventually [they get] cut off from your life. You actually get to have something so much better."

"I do?"

"You do."

She grins. She asks questions about dating and marriage. She asks questions about friends and how they are doing, what they decided to go for. She cheers when she finds out some of her friends are married now, and sighs when she realizes some of them have become distant.

It's funny. I was a bit worried about telling her about the career change and about how things are different with our friends now, but I was most worried about explaining my appearance. But we only spent a couple of minutes on that. I can tell she wants to circle back to it, but I know she won't. It's the thing that disappoints her the most right now, that surprises her incredibly, but she doesn't pry.

She starts to bite her fingernails, habitually. I grin, knowing that mine are grown out, unbitten.

"So..." she says, "Did we get better?"

I smile a thin-lipped smile, "We get better. We have ups and downs, for sure, but things are much better than now."

"Okay, that's good."

There's a small silence where we share a feeling of warmth. The images of what she's going through now fall into my mind, but back out when I recall the ways she'll heal.

"So," I grab my chai and lean onto my elbows over the table, "What's going on for you? Tell me everything."

She grins, and leans in to the conversation. "Well—"

She goes on for hours, talking about the troubles she's dealing with, the friends she has at school, the dreams she has, the shows she's watching, the projects she has at home. She's so excited about so many things.

She doesn't stop to ask questions about the future, or about how things are now. She knows she'll find out eventually, and I can tell she's found comfort in the way I sit. She has already been reassured I'm okay, that she'll be okay.

And what a wonderful thing that is.

~ ~ ~

Although this wasn't exactly what I thought it would be, and still feels like more of a first draft, this is my attempt at the "I met myself for coffee" trend.

It is also an exemplar for the "Back to Our Youth" unofficial challenge that I have created on Vocal! You can go find more details about that challenge here:

Thank you for reading!

Also, I have a new poem up that I would loooove to share with you!

Thanks again!

♡ Belle ♡