Meant For More

“What are you working on?” she asked.

A man hunched over in his notebook looks up at her. He had a scruffy beard with patches like a collection of islands. His brown eyes enlarged with his glasses making him resemble an owl. When met with her soft nearly black eyes he smiled. “Just another poem, I just can’t figure out how to end it,” he told her.

“You worry too much about perfection Luis, just write what you feel,” she replied with a relaxed demeanor.

“That comes easy for you, I can’t just put down whatever I first think of, I am not as quick as you are,” Luis said.

“I think you need to look at the bigger picture,” she said as she picked up the paper, “What do you have so far anyways,”.

He tried to grab the poem from her but quickly she turned away. “It’s short I know but I just want it to resonate, like a little shot, but I need the last lines to make it all connect and have meaning,” he told her.

“Honey, honestly I think you have it so far. You have such a beautiful mind and yet you question every thought you have. You have played it safe for so long,” she leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

Luis sat there staring forward. He was lost in thought. After a bit of a pause he spoke up, “I know, I just…I want this to be perfect,” Luis said.

“And it will be,” she paused, looking towards the door, “What if you took a break and we went to go get some coffee?”.

“I can’t take a break just yet, I know I’m there, I’ll join you once I get it if you still would like to go,” he suggested.

She slowly moved her arms off his shoulders. As she walked away the Luis’ paper shifted and glowed, constantly shifting. Panicked, he backed away from his desk. He looked around to see all of the room was shifting. As he looked at the door BOOM in a quick flash but nothing had happened, all that was there was her. She walked to the door, turned the handle and as she was about to leave she turned back to him. “You should’ve come with me,” she said.

“Wait…that’s not what-” Luis said as he jolted up.

He looked around, at his room and bed. It was just a terrible dream. Wiping the sweat off his forward he pulled himself out from his blankets, out from his little pained memory. Walking to his mirror in a dazed state, falling into his own image. His beard had grown but still remained patched which complimented his tired and hardened eyes. The once friendly barn owl he resembled became more of a northern hawk. Grabbing his glasses he saw a better view of himself, no better than his original view. It was time for him to get ready, not much of a choice for that. Luis started his normal routine, what had become normal to him. Cleaned, dressed, food then out of the apartment. Nothing untypical but somehow more stale as a forgotten piece of bread from the Sunday barbecue.

Before he left he gave his apartment one last look over. Its dead decorations and out of season colors. He didn’t purposely make it so sad, just slowly became this over time. Locking his door he made his way downstairs, the stairs were dimly lit and difficult to transverse. Exiting his building to the road he saw as the sun had yet to rise. Luis worked for the local paper, not a successful business but it allowed him to write and make enough for his apartment so he stayed quiet about his complaints. Walking down his street his work was not too far. He could drive but why would he? Why would he add more emissions for no reason? He didn’t truly care about the environment, if he did he’d pick up the trash he saw as he walked, he would make his city better, instead he walks alone in the dark of an asleep city, only awake to those just calling it a night. The cool cement under his shoes was dirty and damp. The morning dew and careless civilians could be to blame for that. Finally he got to his office. It was covered in windows and bricks, almost straight out of a cartoon from their newspaper comic. Luis was a journalist for the paper. Usually stuff within like local news and stupid online drama. Nothing he did truly care about, but if everyone cared about what they wrote many articles would not be written he would tell himself.

Sitting at his desk he saw her, with her dark eyes, soft brunette hair, the gap in her tooth that would constantly catch food as she chewed, and her welcoming smile, a smile he constantly tried to describe in words but just couldn’t find the right adjective. Luis lost focus on the picture but someone did not seem to notice, “Hey good morning Luis, are you ready for that day?” a co-worker asked.

Luis groaned, “Hey, and sure, what do you have to write about today?”.

“Nothing crazy there was a brawl at the baseball game last night,” he paused for a bit, “I mean it is better then nothing but I wish we had more going on. What about you, what do you have?”.

“Just a local shelter running a fundraiser this weekend. Got a few quotes from them yesterday so just gotta put it all together,” Luis said.

“At least it’s positive, have you seen today's paper? It's already on its way out,” his co-worker asked Luis.

He rubbed his face and leaned back in his chair. Luis hoped his coworker would leave, he was far too tired to be talking to him and his perky attitude. “I haven’t yet, did it come out well?”.

“I think so, for such a boring city we can make this paper worth something at least,” he paused and stared off to the side, “Look I got to head out good luck on your article,”.

Luis waved to him as he left, he didn’t hate the guy or even find him annoying he just couldn’t keep up with him. Luis turned back towards his computer and began on his article. The article is simple, just a little hope piece about a local shelter for cats and dogs. As he wrote he got lost in the details. He pictured a big dog, alone and scared, nobody to love it while it stays inside its metal cage. A packed, smelly, damp, cold, dark, hole with nobody but him. Maybe before the dog wasn’t alone, it had someone once. Somebody or some dog who loved him. As Luis wrote a year fell from his face onto his desk. Backing up he refocused to where he was and what he was doing, he proceeded to look back at his section and rewrite it. The piece had become too sad for a hopeful article.

Luis continued on with his day of work, the usual slow and dreadful day at the office. Occasionally there was some printing or editing drama but the paper had always made it out and done in time for closing. As the day ended Luis was ready to walk out when he was stopped. “Hey Luis, the rest of us are gonna go get some dinner if you want to come,” his coworker, this time a small and timid lady, paused, “We know you haven’t really gone out much since…well since then and we think it could be nice,”.

Luis looked at her with a wave of expression, sympathy, anger, sadness, and then ended on a neutral face. “Yeah, yeah I know but I’m good, maybe another time,” he said.

She nodded as he walked out the door. Just another day, one by one they pass and go. As Luis walked home he thought to himself how he hated his job, hated his co-workers, hated everything, nothing made him feel good anymore. His vision blurred and everything got lost. He was beginning to spiral and wanted it to stop. Up ahead he saw a coffee shop he usually would go to, Luis figured that would be better than going straight home. Walking into the shop he smelt the usual smells. A clean smell mixed with coffee and teas. He figured a black tea would help him to slow down and calm himself. The line wasn’t too bad, just two people ahead of home so his wait wasn’t long. He got to the front of the line and began to start rummaging for his wallet. “Could I just get a black tea, please, large,” Luis said.

He pulled his card out and waited for the barista to reply. “Would you like anything in it or just the black tea?” a girl's voice replied.

Luis looked up and said, “Just th-”.

He froze there, stupidly dumbfounded by the barista in front of him. Her dark eyes pierced his own, a smile that made him feel he should run, and brunette hair that may as well be needles. Luis couldn’t help but stare at her, like a deer in headlights right before being smashed by a semi-truck. The barista looked around nervous, most likely to try and get help. “Sir?” she asked.

Luis laughed uncomfortably to break his silence and refocus a bit. “Yes, sorry, yes I just would like a normal tea,” he answered.

She nodded awkwardly. “Thank you, that’ll be $3.38,” the barista told him.

Putting his card to the reader he knew he had to say it, just had to say it out loud. “I’m sorry about that, it’s just that…that you have an incredible resemblance to my wife,” Luis said.

She laughed awkwardly, “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you,” she said with a smile.

He smiled back at her. “Yes, she was the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” he said, it made him feel warm.

The barista’s expression shifted a bit, Luis forgot he had said ‘was’. “Oh, I am so sorry for your loss,” the barista said.

His warmth became cold all over again, he wanted to leave. It felt good for a second but the realization hit him like a bag of bricks. “She was probably great though,” the barista said.

Her tone was genuine and somber. Not like the normal service worker tone but real. He warmed up again, “She really was, uh what time do you finish your shift? Sorry if it seems weird, you just resemble her so much,” Luis told her.

She was quiet for a bit. Luis’ question may have been too much or too strange. “I have another two hours,” she answered.

Luis nodded and went off to the side. Once he got his tea he waited there, the whole two hours, just to talk to this barista. He couldn’t explain why he wanted to, any mention of his wife prior would send him down a spiral, but for some reason he was fine when she mentioned her. The cafe wasn’t too crowded so he sat in his silence. Just working on his articles for the next day. He was still waiting when he finished. He pulled his bag into his desk to begin rummaging into it, trying to find something to keep himself busy. He felt a crumbled piece of paper at the bottom of the bag and was about to grab it when the barista cleared her throat before she spoke, “Did you want to stay here to talk?” she asked.

“If that is more comfortable for you,” he suggested.

She sat down across from him and put her bag down. Luis looked at her outfit. It was a grey sweatshirt with some worn out writing on the front and black jeans. Nothing too noticeable but he mainly used it as a distraction from her uncanny face. The resemblance was like a knife to the throat. “So what did you want to talk about?” she asked.

“Uh I didn’t really think about it, you just resemble her so much…I just kind of had to talk to you,” Luis replied half sure of himself.

“I can tell you about myself if you’d like?” she replied.

Luis thought she was being far too nice to him, some random grumpy looking man with the expressions of a raptor. Luis nodded to her and waited for her to start speaking. “Well I am a college student, I am majoring in psychology, I work here in order to pay for my college, and I want to help others,” she said.

“That’s a noble goal, I hope that it works out, I work on the local paper,” Luis told her.

“Oh that’s cool, did you always want to work for the newspaper?” she asked.

“No, for a long time I wanted to write poems and be a poet,”.

“That could've been really cool, do you have any work on you,”.

He looked down at his bag and remembered the paper, Luis had a gut feeling on what it was. Reaching down he pulled out a crumbled paper and handed it to the barista. Confused, she undid the mess the paper was left in and saw the poem. “That is one of the last few poems I worked on,” he said.

She spent some time reading it, every second Luis worried what she was thinking of it, or even of him as a poet. Finally she looked up at him, “This is really good, except it’s not finished,” she said.

“I know, never really got to it and could never think of how to end it,” he replied.

“I think you should finish it, it’ll help you. It’s really deep and I feel it’s very meaningful to you,” she paused and looked at him, “Finish this poem, an end is what gives things meaning so let this poem have a proper closer,”.

She handed him back the poem and Luis paused there. Staring at the paper he remembers his wife. His eyes watered as he pictured her, the look she had when telling him to finish the poem. The barista looked at him closer as he began to cry. “I’m alright don’t worry, just…need to write is all,” Luis said.

He wiped his face and put his paper away, he finally had the motivation to do it. The barista laughed awkwardly, “You sure?”.

Luis nodded at her and stood up, “Yes I am, thank you it means a lot that you stayed and talked to me,” Luis put his hand out to shake his hand, “Oh by the way what is your name I am so sorry I hadn’t asked.”.

She reached out and shook his hand, for a second he saw his wife perfectly, that first day he met her. “It’s ok you were distracted, my name is Crystal,” she told him.

Luis smiled at her and thanked her again. Walking out of the cafe he felt lighter, he was walking on clouds. After so long he was shackled in place with his life, he will still miss his wife but he can better honor her then he is now. Luis knew he needed to do better, he had always known but could never find the strength, but Crystal may have given him the first steps to get there. Rushing inside Luis sat at his table and pulled out his poem. Finally after over a year this poem would finally be finished. He’ll get that ending he put on pause for so long, staying frozen on that unfaithful day. Luis began writing letting the fluidity of his writing take control, just like she said. “I’m sorry Mariposa, I promise to do better, I love you,” he said as finished the final line.

Mariposa

Back and forth,

Back and forth

Following the warmth,

But is that all?

Am I meant only for this?

A life knowing one goal,

Flying, surviving, eating,

Is that all I am for?

I want to fly free of my

Endless cycle of pain and

Meaningless mess,

But that can change.

My wings are meant for air,

I am meant for more,

To soar and bring hope,

To bring change and warmth.