It Was Just Another Monday in August

To most people, it was just another hot and humid Monday in August. To me, it was my 22nd birthday. I had the day off from work, I was feelin' good about what I was seeing in the mirror, and I had some extra cash. So, like any devoted coffee lover (addict?), I made the decision to grab my favorite book and spend the morning in my favorite local coffee shop.

I walked through the door and it felt the way it always did: like coming home. The tiny, dim-lit room, local art hanging on the walls, bustling baristas behind the counter working in perfect chaos with one another. The smell of green beans, and freshly roasted coffee. Old, worn wood tables and well loved chairs that were as old as I was, maybe older, greeted me with warmth and familiarity. This was my place, my solace, my peace.

I'm pretty simple when it comes to coffee. I like it strong, and straight up. No cream, no sugar, nada. So I ordered my usual: 12 oz, double shot americano, no room for cream. I grabbed my identifying number and one of the only seats available at rickety old table that wobbled if I put my elbows on it.

A few minutes later, a smiling barista put down a small white mug, filled to the brim with the delicious espresso/hot water combo, the steam still rolling off the top. I thanked her and braved a sip, nearly burning my top lip to bits, but that's okay. That just meant that I would be able to get a healthy dose of reading in while I waited for it to cool down.

So I sat, reading a book that I've read so many times, I could recite it from memory, sipping some of my favorite espresso in town, and just enjoying the moment that felt so perfect, like it was tailor-made for me. Then, in my peripherals: you.

The mysterious, stoic creature that I've come to see on my social media everyday for two years. The man that, when I matched with you on Tinder, I just couldn't believe my eyes. I mean, you? Into me? Wait, wait... someone that looks like you actually swiped right on lil ol' me on Tinder? Then we started to converse. Now that was something I truly couldn't wrap my brain around. Fast forward two years and here we are: still strangers in real life because I've been too terrified to actually connect with you on anything other than Instagram and Snap Chat, terrified because I fear that you wouldn't like what you see/hear in person, face-to-face. Terrified, because I can't run from you when you are looking directly at me (I mean physically, I could, but that would just look crazy right?).

Yet, here you are. In all of my excitement about this perfect moment on my birthday, I spaced that my favorite coffee shop is also your favorite coffee shop, which makes a lot of sense because this is the best coffee in town, and the energy is great, and it's supporting small business and... alright, I digress.

I was frozen with anxiety. Pure, cold adrenaline shot through my veins. My body turned icy, making it hard for my fingers to grasp the book that was in my hand. For a split second, I thought that I was having a heart attack. Can one have a heart attack at 22? That was one thought that kept running through my head. Another thought: I wonder if anyone has noticed that I've been staring at the same word on the same page for a long time. If they did, they didn't say anything, bless their hearts.

I was torn between wanting, no, needing you to come over to my table to say hello, let me hear that voice that I've been imagining for two years. The other half of me wanted to vomit. Everywhere. And then maybe pass out until you've left the coffee shop.

Spoiler alert: neither of those things happened. What did happen was this: you ordered a double shot of espresso, didn't even sit down, just stood at the bar and threw it back, wiped your mouth (the same mouth I've imagined trailing kisses along my skin) with a napkin and promptly walked out of the door.

I'm not even sure you were in the shop a full three minutes. It was the most terrifying and telling three minutes of my life. It made me realize the extent of my fear of rejection, and it also made me realize that I need to work on my self-love a little bit more. I'll be ready to face you, look you in those gorgeous green eyes, and say hello the next time I chance upon you, my beautiful, honey-loving, mystical poet.