nineteen years, one month, and thirteen days. i have been aimlessly walking the earth for that long as of this moment, and during that time i have seen plenty, learned some, lived a little, ate a ton, and loved few. love, a simple word in design yet extremely complicated in meaning. being only nineteen years, one month, and thirteen days old there’s no way i could have experienced enough to last me a lifetime, right? false. i’ve withstood enough of what i thought was love. we define love the way we experienced it. maybe it’s the change of seasons, maybe it’s the damn pumpkin spice, but this is the time of year when i tend to reflect on these things.
i am currently sitting in my nook at barnes and noble, sipping my now lukewarm green tea latte. it was steaming hot and full of life, but quickly faded to the duller side of things as i sit here watching. watching young couples do their college work with one another, watching lifelong high school sweethearts in their mid seventies enjoy their coffee out of the same mug, watching the professor busy himself to forget he was widowed this same time last year, watching the same middle aged boy with special needs read the same comic series he’s been reading in the same spot for the last three years. watching everyone in their own walk of life, carrying their own definitions of love. for those of you who don't know me that well, may this serve as an intimate look into my feelings and why i may come across as cynical.
someone asked me the other day, “what holds you together?” to which my response was, “the thought that no one else will or feels the need to.”
i was your green tea latte.
and that’s the thing with broken clocks, is that you can always tell exactly when they stopped ticking. with people it isn't so easy, and sometimes you can’t even tell they're broken. people come and go. some are cigarette breaks, and others are forest fires. you were a raging forest fire, burning me relentlessly. now i’m just a vast wasteland of scorched ashes with fallen trees covering me, suppressing my feelings.
and that's okay with me.
that’s okay because soon time will pass and i will forget the colour of your eyes, the way your face lights up when you smile, the placement of your heartbeat, and exactly what you meant to me. that’s okay with me because i realised all that really matters is that the people you love are happy and healthy, everything else is just the sprinkle on top. that’s okay with me because i have learned to find love in other things. find love within friendships. kiss their faces more. destroy the belief that intimacy must be reserved for monogamous relationships. be more loving. embrace platonic intimacy, embrace vulnerability, use emotionality as a radical tactic against a society which teaches you that emotions are a sign of weakness. tell more people you care about them. hold their hands. tell them you're proud of them, and most of all learn to love them.
things i’ve learned to love without expecting anything in return:
quiet coffee shops
seeing genuine human interaction
waking up early
smiling at strangers
watching the stars
going to the beach at 1am
green tea latte