2 October 2012
"I'm just not feeling it anymore," he said, looking solemnly into my eyes. "You have to admit that we just...we don't work."
I looked down at our intertwined hands on the table, and after hearing his speech, I pulled mine away.
"You really feel that way?" I asked, massaging the hand that he had been holding, trying to erase the feeling of his hand holding mine.
He simply shrugged his shoulders and recoiled his empty hand that was on the table. "I'm sorry."
I sighed and looked out of the window onto the street. The street was being flooded with rain as it poured from the sky. People were scurrying along the street clad in raincoats and holding umbrellas, trying not to get wet, although the wind made it difficult to stay dry.
Looking at the passersby from the solitude of inside the coffee shop, I recalled the time when him and I were out in the rain, trudging through the flooding streets together, hand in hand. He had insisted that we go exploring that day. We went into shop after shop, into every art gallery, every café, and finally, after we were soaked and our feet hurt, he dragged me to a tiny, hole-in-the-wall restaurant for a surprise two month anniversary dinner. It was intimate and lovely, not too overwhelmingly sappy, considering that it had been only two months together.
A month later, I had caught him with another girl underneath the bleachers. We had gone on break, but after a lot of talking we had gotten back together, although not without protests from my friends.
A few weeks after that, he wanted to break it off because he was tired of having to babysit me after a night out drinking and partying, but we managed to work it out again.
It's been a month since then, and things seemed to be going well, until now because he officially wanted to end things.
"There's really nothing that can be done to fix it?" I asked. "It's not like we haven't had issues before."
He gripped his cup of coffee and peered into the nearly empty cup. "We shouldn't have to be people that we're not for each other. You're a reckless party animal and I just like to hookup. I don't want to be dragged from party to party and you don't want me to be cheating on you," he explained.
"If you really liked me, then you wouldn't want to cheat on me," I muttered.
"Maybe I just don't like you enough," he said looking up and holding my gaze.
I bit my lip, feeling the sting of his slap on my insides.
"Oh." I lowered my head.
"I didn't mean it to be so...look you really are a great girl, and we've had our fun-"
"Then go. You don't need to say it anymore," I spat as I glared into his brilliant blue eyes. "Bye."
He stared at me for a moment, confused if I was serious or not, but deciding that I was, indeed serious, he gingerly got up from his seat, bid me goodbye with a nod, and stalked out of the shop, robbing my heart and making the bell chime as the door slammed behind him.
I watched him walk down the street, passing by the window where I sat. He quickly pulled his hood over his head and took his cell out of his pocket to make a call.
"It's probably a booty call," I muttered bitterly as I folded my arms on the table and put my head down on them. I audibly sighed in despair.
The bell chimed again, and I looked up hoping that he had changed his mind and returned. After all, I wanted my heart back.
But it wasn't him. Instead, it was a tall guy with a sopping wet jean jacket and wild hair that stuck up in all directions from being soaked with the rain. He quickly surveyed the shop, probably looking for someone, but as his gaze met mine, he flashed me a small smile, sending chills up and down my spine.
Coffee Shop Blues • Opuss № I