Tiny Love Stories #1: A Millisecond Of What-Could-Have-Been A Love Story Of A Lifetime
A man, I speculate to be younger by a decade (or so) told me such as I was reading and nursing a small cup of tea at my local coffee shop.
I was waiting for a friend, who was 30 minutes late.
I lowered the newspaper I was reading, current events be damned, as I politely said my thanks to the man (more like boy), who blushed and turned his gaze to the window where cars slowly moved from morning rush hour traffic.
Doe-like eyes framed his round-ish face, but you could see a line of jaw that cuts between his puffy cheeks and neck, his smile bright, nose tall and his complexion fair. His hair is the color of golden wheat, and swept to the side revealing a small space of a forehead. He looked to be of agile build, and was leaning against one of the chairs left vacant, which he made no move into, I suppose to remain respectfully distant.
After what seemed to be a full minute, he turned to me again, and smiled..his doe eyes transformed to little crescents.
I smiled too. His energy radiated like a sun.
He opened his mouth, but no words come out. He looked hesitant, shy. He licked his lips, I could see him trembled.
He is nervous. That as much I can tell.
I lowered my guard, curiosity and intrigue got the best of me, and I allowed myself to lean over the table, waiting for what else he would say. Or do.
I looked at him encouragingly, and his amber eyes shimmered with an unnamed emotion I cannot bring to know, and felt a shift.
For that second, it felt like we had a connection.
Until I heard someone calling my name.
My friend calling my name.
She has arrived, her presence felt all over the coffee shop, by a bell and a yell.
And whatever this boy and I had, has broken.
For the last time, he smiled, albeit looked a little sad, he pushed off from the chair he was leaning on, excused himself and walked away.
Hands on his pockets, shoulders slouched slightly. Eyes still on mine. Like he didn’t want to look away.
A fragile string holding us together. Whatever that ‘us’ is.
Until I completely severed it, when I turned away and landed my gaze to my friend, who remained oblivious (thank goodness) throughout the whole exchange, wrapped up in her own busy-ness, and I slowly allowed myself to be immersed into her chaos. I never knew if he was still in the coffee shop, or he had already left. I never knew and I did not want to yearn.
In a millisecond, I allowed myself to think of the what-ifs and the what-could-have-beens...what sort of path will be paved, should he had said more. Should he had sat down and we started a conversation.
But. No. There is not much space in this mind of mine, as a woman, married. With a life that is carefully put together, cherished, taken cared of.
So I just let it go. And I only hope for him to be well.