It’s 13:25 in this small little coffee shop, and I am sitting alone. A table that must fill two but accompanied by my lonely presence. I am not here to bull shit you. Not here to lie to you about how you must love your company always. That is in fact not a reality, it is not a truth. You do not always have to enjoy your own presence. Sometimes you want the empty chair to be filled, and your thoughts to be heard. I guess that’s what I am doing now in a sense. Letting the internet enter my mind. You don’t know me, but I let you into my world of heartbreak.
May I take this chair?- says stranger.
And I replied with: of course you can. Because I knew that, that chair will not be filled. I was not expecting anyone.
I guess me and you are not strangers. Who ever reads ‘perspective’. I only post on here when I am trying to get ahold of myself, which is my most vulnerable time. And this time, I am not here to write any type of poetry, or story. I’m here to talk to you, like I would in a coffee shop.
Do you know the true pain of being an overthinker, a person who feels more than a person of logic? Is that no matter where you go, who you meet, you get attached. You try to hold on to everything, because the world seems to take everything good from you every time. But it doesn’t matter how tightly you grasp onto something, it leaves, disappears. So, you stick to something temporarily. Not because you are lowering your standards, but because when it’s temporary, the world can’t touch it. It cannot take something that neither is good nor bad.
My body has been fighting a sickness for the past two weeks. Physically, made me weak. Can’t walk for more than ten minutes without my legs giving out, and my face wears thin. And mentally, the sickness never left.
You know what’s on my mind?
Too fucking much.
What if today the world will love me, what if the world will be good to me. What if the world will let me take something, without having to grasp so tightly on it. What if the world will let me in?
So stranger… what do you know about me now? What do you see? A girl who’s hurt, or a girl who’s tired of all the bullshit?
*****
I think a lot about my fears. I ask him the question-he replies and asks me back. And I give the most generic answer. I am scared of being alone. But in reality, it’s a fear of water.
I saw myself fall so deeply into him,
and he let me fall into his arms.
But the water began to feel colder
his arms let me go. I haven't seen him since.
The water itself does not scare me. I dont care if its cold or warm, or what is in the water matter of fact. Its that you can swim so deeply, and come out of it alone. You never forget how deeply you have swam, but you feel the depth of it every time.
I still feel it all.
I think about what you are thinking about, I wonder into all the possible reasons why you up and left, and I think about all the different ways I can begin to accept it.
There is a time where you have to let go of what you hope to be true, because it is not reality anymore. Its not the now, it is the was.
You get up and leave. You too have felt the need to leave. And I stay here, sitting in this coffee shop, alone.
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