Wednesday, September 21, 2011

100 Words: One Year

Last September, we tied ourselves together. One year ago, I met my best friend, and the only man who has ever loved me so deeply and unconditionally.

I finally found a man in whom I could put all of my trust and love--my perfect match.

A few days prior, we drove past a strip-mall when I saw it: the first place we hung out, socially. He was nervous, blushing and scared to chase me away. I was scared and wondering how soon it would end before it could begin--like many regrettable instances in my life.

Our union did not end.

That store is now home to my most precious memory--I cannot pass by without smiling and thanking God for something so beautiful.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Forgetful Thursday

I hide behind my coffee cup, peering into it inquisitively, hoping its remains will predict the rest of my day for me.

But this is not traditional tea brewed from leaves. There is no shaman, or strange old woman with orphic eyes and lined hands; just me, and a few strangers in nearby chairs. And this is a manufactured, brewed, bland latté. Its caramel flavoring all my tongue could enjoy, when it was still in the cup. The morning is moving by slowly, and my mind is racing--either from the caffeine I precariously chugged hardly before reaching the table or just the mere turmoil of uncertainty.

I have forgotten something.

Somewhere could be studies left unattended, phone calls unmade, a fellow peer or professor left stranded in an office or in a dining hall waiting for a meeting of which will never come. The possibility of having forgot something rather important leaves me on the edge of my seat. One slip of my foot, and I almost slip out of the chair. I catch myself in time, though. I will more than likely embarrass myself later today. There is no reason to start my day off with shame.

I look into the cup one more time before sipping up the last bit of its contents. The drops of drink left dangling in the corner-creases form a smile.

In all of my rush to begin my day, I never bothered to lift my head out of the drudgery and just smile. Looming over my conscious all morning was a smile daring to never show.

I pull myself together, and my muscles seem more than willing to relax. I smile.

Maybe Thursdays aren't so bad, I think.

Maybe coffee is clairvoyant, after all.