I Met My Younger Self for Coffee

I met my younger self for coffee on a Thursday afternoon,

She showed up on time,

But never got in line to order anything,

In that way, she is still the same as me,

Probably afraid to spend the money,

I was also early filled with anticipation waiting for someone,

I don't remember,

Her hair was long, tangled, and blonde,

mine is short, grown out, and in need of a highlight,

she brought a notebook to write down what she will need to know,

The lessons I'm able to tell her are only things that can be shown,

She told me that she feels like everyone left her behind,

I told her that she will discover her way in due time,

She says that I sound like our mom,

I told her, that because because she was never wrong,

She wants to know if I ever left home, I tell her that we still visit, but found our own,

She asks me if we ever kissed a boy,

I nod and smile while the rest I try to avoid,

She sits there, so unaware of the experiences in front of her,

Parts of me that have now become a blur,

She is so adamant about knowing what she wants to do with her life,

So distinctive on what's wrong and what's right,

That part of her resurfaces in me from time to time,

I want to spill the tea on everything that is to come,

Insider trade on who she should have kept, and where we should have run,

but I don't,

those are hers to experience,

her firsts, whether or not I would choose to go through them again,

I want to be her best friend, be the guide that I didn't have,

Give her a hug where she would tighten up, and I would laugh,

and probably cry, because she is a part of me,

But the person I am now is not a part of her, yet,

So I keep the conversation light, so I don't change her path,

Listen to her plans, validate, understand,

We sit in the coffee shop together, both without drinks,

agreeing we should have gotten smoothies instead,

Both feeling the impending dread,

that this moment will end,

I know,

She is in the precocious of where her life begins,

But I tell myself that again and again,

She leaves, probably on her way to play cards with Grandma,

While I stay for a moment, treasuring her 18-year-old self,

A person I used to be, and for a moment, a person I felt,

I wished I could have answered all the questions I knew she wanted to know,

But I know, she will have to figure it out all on her own.