"In the Café, Without You

You sent me a photo—

sitting in that Instagram-worthy, third-wave café in Portland.

Your smile, breathtaking,

the kind that disarms,

the kind that leaves girls spellbound.

You always had this way about you.

Good-looking men ruling this world,

Your charm, brilliance, talent is more than a currency

not fit for a trade in.

It isn’t fair, but it’s the way things are—

everything handed to you on silver platters.

I stare at the photo longer than I should,

memories flooding back like a tsunami about to engulf me

How you were always there for me,

through every bit of my heartbreak,

every lover who came and went,

shattering me over and over again.

You in that café—

so effortless, so handsome—

and yet, a dull ache rises in my chest.

You’ve become a stranger,

far away, out of reach.

We bridge the gap with emails,

fill up the silence with video calls.

But as I see it—

the cracks you try to hide.

You’re hurting,

and your wounds out in the open, hurts me more than you ever could.

I know you are staying there for good and never going back to our country.

There is nothing for you here! I was envious of your escape

Silicon Valley awaits you, it will be wasted here in this calamity of corruption and politics!

You asked me once,

“Why am I never enough for you?”

I had no answer.

I kept you at a distance

because I don't want to me that selfish bitch around the corner

that holds you back!

I am not one of those women or should I say your women!

I just wanted you to be a friend, an anchor, steadfast, grounding

holding me still when I am so anxious. But then again....I have to let it go!

So here it is... your page!

You’ll hate me for this—

for exposing our years of friendship,

our secrets,

for immortalizing you in words

foreign, gasping, alive.

I imagine you here,

sitting across from me in this café,

just like before.

There’s so much to say,

but the words are stuck in my throat.

I would give anything—

everything—

just to have you here again.

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