An Afternoon at the Cafe.

 

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Credit: Seemi Samuel

 

If we were having coffee right now, I will ask you how you’re doing. You’ll tell me you’re doing fine. Both of us will look down on our drinks. I will sip mine and you’ll cough, even though you don’t really need to.

You will look at me, but my eyes are looking some place else. Then, I will look at you, but you are looking at the waiter coming towards our table.

We will give him our orders, I will thank him and you will give him a smile. When he leaves, you will ask me what is going on with my life. I will answer, but only a masked truth. I will put up a facade I want you to believe because the truth is something you don’t want to hear.

And you will nod. Accepting the white lie. You do not question it. And then I will ask you about yours. You will say you’re doing well with your job but only barely. And we will laugh.

And then silence.

We both realise how much we miss each other. Denying the fact that we’ve drifted too far apart. I need to try, we both say in our minds.

You don’t know me and I don’t know you.

Where did it all go wrong?

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