Flashbacks

By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. I stopped at the short iron gate in front of my house and gazed up at the blazing trees wondering why autumn had decided to sneak up on us this year. I swear the leaves were still emerald a week ago, but then again, that’s how long I had exiled myself from the rest of the world. During that week of isolation, my mornings had been spent with coffee that contained only honey and oat milk and poetry books filled with other people’s miseries. I thought that maybe if I read someone else’s feelings, I would finally understand my own. That wasn’t necessarily the case, but it was nice knowing that I wasn’t the only person who had felt these feelings before. 

This was my first outing since then, and it didn’t take long for the flashbacks to start. In one swift motion I lifted the clasp on the gate, let myself out, and gently closed it back. My mind still felt foggy as I started walking to the left. After a few steps I realized that the cafe I frequented was actually to the right. I spun around, my oversized olive green cardigan catching on a wild rose bush that was near me. I freed myself from its grasp and continued my walk. I remembered telling him that I thought roses were cliche`  and how he never sent me any flowers. 

I pulled out my earbuds, plugged them into my phone, and carefully curated a playlist that would accompany me on the walk there. The actual walk to the cafe wasn’t  a bad one -- it only took about five, three minute songs to get there. What was going to be interesting about the walk were the film reel type memories that I knew would start playing in my head. The crisp autumn wind was causing all the trees to strip and release their leaves like rain hitting the sidewalk. I didn’t attempt to dodge them, I just let them glide over me while I soaked in the fact that the best time of year was finally here. Then, I remembered us talking about our favorite seasons. 

“My favorite is definitely autumn. It has been for the past twenty years,” I said to him. 

“Autumn could never compete with summer,” he said. Now, autumn has been my favorite for the past twenty-one years. 

I walked until I caught a glimpse of that old faded blue building. I paused and looked at its dingy white letters reading “LAUNDROMAT” in all caps. I had only ever been in there once. I continued walking while remembering one day in the spring when my dryer had suddenly given up and I had a washing machine full of wet clothes. 

“I don’t know what to do,” I said to him over the phone, “I guess I can dry them outside.” 

“No way,” he responded, “I’ll be there in a few minutes and we can run them over to the laundromat.” I remembered us piling wet clothes into our arms because I still hadn’t bought an actual laundry basket. We set off on our great drying expedition, which ironically turned into an even damper one when rain started pouring down on us about halfway there. I let out a playful squeal and took off running, unaware if I was actually holding onto everything that was in my arms, and he did the same. We flung the glass doors open, water covering our faces, and let out a good laugh. I don’t remember if I lost any clothes or not. In that moment, I didn’t really care. I snapped back to reality and made a mental note in my head to buy a laundry basket. 

I was happy the walk was over. Maybe the memories would be too. The smell of coffee washed over me as I opened one of the old wooden doors. My brain had attached him to flowers, every leaf, old buildings, and apparently, the smell of this bustling little cafe. It was bittersweet that I found him in even the smallest everyday things. I rummaged around in my leather satchel looking for my card and got in line to order. I remembered the way he would playfully pick on me about getting my regular mocha. 

“There’s barely any actual coffee in there, you’re just drinking caffeinated hot chocolate,” he would say while smiling at me. 

I smirked at the memory and then looked up at the menu. “A change,” I thought to myself, “that might be nice.” I stepped up to the register and instead of my usual small mocha, I ordered a large americano. As I was paying I looked across the cafe and spotted Sheila pouring an older man some more coffee and happily chatting away. Sheila was an eccentric lady who I had become friends with as well as a close confidante. She always came and spoke to me at some point during my visits. 

“Eleanor!” Sheila yelled, “Where have you been, baby? I haven’t seen you in over a week and I’m used to seeing those freckles on your face at least every other day.” 

I contemplated how I would answer. To be honest, I didn’t anticipate anybody asking me this question because I didn’t think anybody would notice my brief disappearance. “I’ll tell you once I sit down!” I yelled back not wanting to let everybody else in on the secret. 

I grabbed my coffee from the pickup counter and strolled my way over to my favorite table that sat beside an antique mahogany bookshelf. After having a seat I pulled out my laptop and opened it to an empty word document. A flashing cursor was tormenting me about how I hadn’t written anything in weeks. I reached for my coffee feeling the warmth of the cup hit my palm while I looked around again for Sheila. I saw her taking her apron off while simultaneously yelling “I’m going on break, y’all try not to need me for anything.” I chuckled and shook my head while watching her walk over to me because it was still extremely busy inside. 

As she was sitting down she grabbed my cup and read it. “A large americano?” She questioned, “that’s quite a change.” 

“Exactly.” I said, sitting up a little straighter. 

“All right, and just where have you been? I was about to start a search party.” 

I knew she was joking but there was a hint of seriousness in her voice. It felt nice to be seen and to know that somebody had missed me. “I’ve only been at my house. I didn’t leave for a week. I thought that some time alone would be good for me, and I think it was,” I said confidently. 

“Girl. Are you still missing him?” Sheila shook her head, “you know I never thought he was the one for you.” 

I nodded, “I am fully aware you thought that because you used to tell me even when he was standing right beside me.” I laughed. Sheila laughed too. 

I looked at her again and said, “It’s over and I think I’m finally okay with it. I’ve just been left with all these memories that I have no idea what to do with.” 

Sheila raised her eyebrow and pushed my laptop closer to me, “I think you know exactly what to do with them.”