You Too

Nightfall comes,

I climb into bed.

I lie down.

My head hits the pillow.

I close my eyes.

And then it starts.

I’ve mind-travelled back to this afternoon.

I’m sitting there at the bustling café,

waiting for my coffee and banana bread.

The waiter strides over

and says, “Enjoy your meal.”

I say, “You too.”

After a moment of pause,

he turns and walks away,

and I’m left a stammering mess.

Why do I always do that?

Why am I so socially awkward?

Can’t I be normal for once?

Now I’m lying here,

12:47 a.m.,

replaying the moment

over and over in my head.

Did I notice a furrow of his brow?

Did I see a tiny smirk?

I’m sure I saw him joke

with the other staff member on duty.

If I replay it over and over in my mind,

will I get it right next time?

I took a bite of my warm, soft banana bread.

I had a sip of my strong, smooth coffee.

But I’d ruined it for myself.

I pulled my hoodie over my head

and walked out the door,

looking down in shame.

I’m on a diet.

I shouldn’t have even had banana bread,

but I thought it would be better than cake.

If I hadn’t had caffeine so late in the day,

then I’d be able to sleep,

and this whole situation wouldn’t have happened.

I wonder how many slices of banana bread

I’ve eaten over my lifetime.

Haha, banana is a funny word.

How could…

Zzz.