Hazy Coffee Mornings

If we were having coffee right now… I’d probably run up to you and give you a big hug. “God. I’ve missed you.” “I’ve missed you too.” We both smile and I’d tell you how you are pretty much my only good friend at university now. We line up to buy our coffees and you say, “You have other friends too”, and I scrunch up my face like I always do, and reply “I mean sure I have acquaintances who used to be friends but somehow, I dunno, we just drifted away.” I can’t believe we didn’t see each other the whole summer, like at all. It’s been such a long summer, all I want to do is get back to uni and start learning again. 5 months off! It’s getting slightly boring now since I don’t really do much. I can’t wait to start learning about eyewitness psychology, I think I will really love it. And speaking of, “have you emailed them about swapping volunteering for eyewitness yet?”. “I have, but they haven’t got back to me yet.” “Typical university.”

God, we still have over a month left of summer holidays, how insane is that? I’m going to be crazy by the time we get back to uni. I am itching to start learning again. I’ve already forgotten everything I learned last year. I hope this next year, our final year will be good and not stressful. I’m kind of worried about all the work and deadlines we need to meet. “I’m kind of dreading it.” “Me too.” I sigh, and then you sigh and we sip our coffees like it’s a necessity.

If we were having coffee right now… I’d ask you a question out of the blue, “Have you ever been in love?” “Woah, where did that come from? That’s deep.” “I know, but have you?” “Yeah, I was in a 3-year relationship, remember?” “What’s it like to be in love with someone who loves you back?” I knew it was a hard question, and obviously very hard to explain. It was kind of rhetorical, kind of not. See, I’d been in love with someone for years and he had no idea. It was totally one-sided, I think. Or maybe he knew, and just used that…used me to his advantage. It broke me. He really hurt me. And yeah it will take me ages to get over it, but I never want to forget. I want to remember how he treated me and remember why I will never go back to him.

“Stop moping”, you tell me. You can see by my face what I’m thinking about. “Just, you know, move on.” It’s not that easy. You can’t just snap your fingers and let go. I will never forgive him for what he did. “Have you spoken to him at all since?” you ask, and I reply “no, and I never want to.” “He’s an as shore and an idiot”, “ugh why are boys so stupid?!” I drink my coffee, angrily. I don’t know if it’s possible to drink coffee angrily but I did, somehow. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.” I finish my coffee and look at you in disappointment. “You drink coffee so fast, here, I’ll buy you another.” You are literally my best friend. It will take time, you know. It will take time for me to get him out of my system. Maybe it was love, maybe it was infatuation. I don’t even know what love is anymore. I was so wrapped up in the thought of him… in the thought of what could be. “Babes, here’s your medium soya gingerbread latte”. “My queeeen.”

coffee with friend.jpg

If we were having coffee right now… I would say that I have had writer’s block for a few days and it is driving me nuts. I can’t find inspiration anywhere. I’ve literally lost all motivation right now but all I want to do is write! I think I’m a perfectionist and that’s what’s stopping me. I need the perfect thing to write about. You would say “That’s how I feel about all reports and essays we have to do at uni” and I’d reply “ugh, tell me about it.” I know all I have to do is write, something, anything. But I can’t seem to do it. I am wracking my brain for things to write and there’s like, nothing there; it’s all gone. All my ideas have just vanished into thin air like *poof*. I want to write but first I need an idea and then I can write about it, but I have no ideas. “Drink more coffee”, you say, “it will help”. “I’ve been drinking 5 coffees a day and it’s not helping. I think it’s losing it’s effect, I’ve become immune to it”, I say as I drink my latte. And I jokingly “maybe I should level up to alcohol” and we both laugh but from the look on your face I think you think it’s not actually a bad idea, but you don’t say that because you don’t want me turning into one of those writers.



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