Colliding Lives

We were strangers.

It’s the lonely image of a first year teacher at the end of October as she pulled out those dreaded essays and got to work reading. She’d make her coffee last and order the entire menu three times over. The food was less than ideal, but she had to eat. While her colleagues went home to their families she could be found in that coffee shop up until closing.

No one bothered her, not a single soul. Until he came along. Tall, fit, the perfect image of a man. When he asked to sit with her, she couldn’t find the words to say no. There were three beanbags, only two filled by the chaos of a working woman. Denying an empty seat was cruel.

They sat in silence, she grading papers as he watched. The weight of his gaze held down her shoulders and she fought the urge to look. He’d try to get her to bite, ask about her job or start on some grand story that she knew was an exaggeration. But she had work to do. She couldn't afford to give up the stress motivating her days.

Soon he had become the distraction. Red ink was foreign to her and the bags kept getting heavier. Those afternoons spent sipping the dark liquid was filled with joy she hadn’t felt in years. Her shoulders relaxed, her face brightened. The coffee shop became more than a work place.

He showed her the city, held her hand at the movies. They spent the holidays with each other’s families. She brought him to dinner at the church while he took her on a moonlit walk through the winery. Two lives collided with earnest persistence, never dreaming of letting go.

She was happy.

But happiness is a dying art. Poets and directors make you believe, only to have a caring heart rip away every dream.

The joy faded around Easter. Her laughter became silent. Talking became a chore, the distraction gone. He was growing tired; she could see it in the way he looked at her, the flickering flame in his touch. Every moment they had captured was forgotten.

They were suddenly too loud for the tiny shop, too distracting to those enjoying a cup. The sidewalks became their new playground, earning stares from the people who claimed to know them best. She let him do the talking as she tried to understand. Her happy ending was lost.

And as I stand where we did those months ago, I wonder if this feeling will ever fade. I've moved on from the coffee shop office. Yet here I am, staring through the windows that I only ever looked out of.

He’s in there, standing in line for coffee with friends who look like him. I bet he’ll sit in our spot, melt into those chairs to laugh about stories I will never know. He’ll have a new order, a new reason to stay up through the night. Even his clothes are different. The sweatpants and tees are replaced by a sweater vest and khakis. No consideration to tell me anything.

When he walks toward the front of the store, I try to make myself look busy. The bell rings as he exits and I can feel his gaze on me. Silence washes over us both and I know we’re on the same wavelength, remembering the life we had created. And for the first time I think I want it back.

But when I lift my head he’s walking away. A greeting dies on my lips.

We’re strangers again. Only this time we have memories.