To love somebody, again

After having your heart broken. Many questions spiral through your head. How did this happen? How could I have changed it? How did I let him go? How could he betray me? How am I still breathing how could I ever think, to love somebody? I pondered this, for days on end after Andrew left me. We used to do everything together. We went to the same school, worked at the same job, shopped at the same stores. We shared a house for Christs sake! Now? It's just me. Tucked away in the corner of our local coffee shop, " The Brew". I stay hidden in a small alcove of the cafe, opposite to where I used to sit with him. I watch the patrons enter and exit the shop. They order and sit, or order and leave, each customer waltzing about with smiling faces and laughing voices. It sickens me. As selfish and pessimistic as it is, I feel as though no one should be happy right now. Cant they see I'm in crisis? I'm wearing a turtle neck! The height of tortured soul fashion! The world however does not care for my sorrows, or my turtleneck.

I keep at my brooding and somber observation, until the image before me is obscured by the most awkward man to enter trough the doors today. He is lanky and thin, which makes me think he could easily be carried off by the wind. He carried arm fulls of paper work and a PC that looked like it could still be running on windows 7. He unceremoniously dropped his items in a booth and began to reorganize them on the table. His hair is long i notice. It looks soft, I notice. He as well, wears a turtle neck. I see you stranger I know your pain. Call me a bit sadistic, but it's feels nice to imagine someone else is going through a similar rough patch. To feel as though am not alone in my loneliness.

By this time, the man has organized his miscellaneous papers into three piles. His jacket, which I'm now noticing, holds the dull emblem of my University. I wonder what major he's in. I look more closely at his papers. names of all different people, scrawled in messy writing adorns the corner of each page. Tests, he must be an education major, or a early childhood and care student. He likes kids, I find that endearing. He finally looks up to wave over a waitress. Despite his long arms he doesn't serve well using them to gain attention. He starts to make faces of wild proportion and flail about like a maniac. I cant help the sudden burst of amused laughter that escapes my throat. I i slap a hand over my mouth and dart away my eyes trying to play it off as a yawn. After deeming the coast clear I look back to him. he stares right at me. I suppose my little yawn trick wasn't quite so believable. I expect some sort of disturbed expression, yet all I find is amusement. The man looks around and then back to me. He waves halfheartedly with a lopsided grin adorning his features. I smile back and return his polite wave. That was a pleasant transaction. I refocus my attention on my cup of coffee.

The chair before me pulls out and causes a loud obnoxious screech. I wince at the sound. The smiling man sits before me now. He has brought his papers and laptop and apparently a waitress, as he gives her his order. Light roast with 3 creams 6 sugars a shot of caramel and whipped cream on top. If he didn't like coffee, he liked sugar in liquid form. She smiles and leaves to place his order as the man turns back to me.

" Hey Riley, long time no speak!", he beams excitedly.

"hello". I reply meekly. He seems to know me, I on the other hand have never met this man in my life. Or so I thought.

"Did you finish the paper for Professor Milton's class? I am still working on my conclusion. It's a little rough around the edges but it's due in three days, so what time do I have to complain right? Did you happen to get the notes for...." His ranting went on for about five minutes stopping only to sip his steaming cup of pure glucose, before continuing his spiel. I'm starting to remember who this is. Yes, that's right Jonah McCarthy, from my rhetorical writing class. He sat next to me for two whole months talking my ear off non stop whilst i tried to keep focus on the lesson. I don't believe I have ever seen this much of him. In class I would avoid eye contact with him in hopes that he would get the hint and shut up. Now here he is on the topic of parking in the city, disturbing my peace, and intruding on my self pity party. Part of me thinks of running, just flipping the table and making a dash for the door. My anxiety tells me there is no way I need that many eyes on me. So I sit and zone out at an odd dark patch on our table.

Two hours go by before he finally stops talking. Not because he has finished; not due to him meeting the time constraint he should be set on; no, he stops talking because his attention had been diverted to a young woman who walked in to the room chest first as if it was her most valuable asset. Now I personally could care less about the girl. But if her mere presence was enough to shut this lunatic up. I hope she sticks around. My focus realigns with Jonah who looks as though he just saw the love of his life. God I envy him right now. I wish it was that easy to love somebody, well in my case, again.