Little fume of my coffee started to vanish that it smelled less stronger now. Or, maybe it’s just I got used to the smell. As it reminded me that I’d been sitting in the corner of the coffee shop for too long. And I hadn’t drunk even a sip of my coffee, that had gotten far from hot now.
“Always drink your coffee while it’s hot.” That was what Anne always told me. Funny, that I, as a man, was always to be the one who was less masculine compared to her. From ocean diving, to the love of coffee. She was the one introduced me to a habit of drinking coffee sugarless. She said, we should not drink coffee with sugar. Even though sugar gave a sweet taste to it, still, coffee was never meant to be consumed with sugar. When you love coffee, you would mind how other different particles might ruin its taste. That was her philosophy about coffee. But I still couldn’t drink it a hundred percent sugarless. And, I would always be a joke to her for this. Her mocking at me on this usually always ended up with me getting pissed off. But it felt differently now. It made me smile by only thinking of it.
I was not my self recently. I had been avoiding people. Friends, family, whoever it was. It was like the need of my personal space just elevated. Been couple months. I didn’t feel like talking much and had been preferring hearing myself more than others.
I was surprised myself that I enjoyed all these. Going out, buying my own self some coffee, and just sitting there like the loneliest person on earth, only to finaly leave and ignore the miserable coffee I did not bother to touch.
I was sure that to be by myself was all I needed. I didn’t know why, but it was just, I felt the way people were acting to me recently was so overwhelming. I couldn’t stand their every are-you-alright or their other way of expressing sympathy. And I was sorry that they thought I needed all that.
It was not exactly what they thought and sought. I really wish they would stop asking. Cause I didn’t even know whether I was sad, or mad. What I felt inside was so unfamiliar. Things were just so strange that most of the time I felt the world had stopped moving and I could barely hear things other than my own self. And this heavy feeling on my chest, was the thing that I had never been able to get rid of.
I could only hope that one day, I would wake up in the morning feeling life has been normal again. That I would not mind any more sympathy or simply a pity. That people’s condolence and I’m-sorry-about-Anne thing would just feel like any other normal words. And that this feeling of missing her would cause no more pain on me. That my coffee would taste fine sugarless. One day…