Coffee shops are made for reminiscing. So I sit here, inhaling the fragrant steam from the cup in my hands, and think about our recent goodbye. About the casual hug and the even more casual “You take care of yourself, okay?” About you disappearing into the crowd, with neither of us knowing when you’d be back.
The intensity of missing you surprises me right now.
It’s the strangest thing. Did you know coffee doesn’t taste the same without you?
And rain doesn’t feel the same. Newly-cut grass smells different, too.
I look around, and you’re everywhere. That book you loved. The pasta we shared. That sidewalk we strolled on one midnight when we seemed to never run out of things to talk about. It’s disorienting, like you’ve reordered my world — and it keeps you close to me and underscores the distance at the same time.
I miss you already. Think of me where you are.
(I wrote this ages ago, but it felt too raw to post immediately. Don’t bother guessing who it’s for — a little mystery is good for the soul. 😉 )