A change
Every day, I’d do the same things: wake up, check my phone, go to the bathroom, brush my teeth, get changed, and go to the local cafe to meet for breakfast. I still do these, but it’s different. I still check my phone and respond to people, I still use the bathroom and brush my teeth afterward, and I’d still get changed and go to the local cafe to meet for breakfast. But it’s different.
Instead of checking my phone to reply to her, I just hoped that I’d see her notification. Instead of going to the bathroom and brushing my teeth, I’d still do it, just slowly. I’d still have changed, but I wasn’t changing to impress anyone anymore. Going to the cafe instead of meeting with the same person, it’s a new person–it’s all different.
On the walk to the cafe, I listen to music and try to exit out of the surroundings, but I always notice. I notice the laughing girl with the smiling boy, I notice the elderly couple with the man pushing the woman in the wheelchair. I notice it all, and it leaves a stinging burn to my weakened heart.
When I get to the cafe, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My once tightly neat curly long hair is now a frizzy mess. The bangs I’d try every day to make sure they don’t get ruined are sticking up with the other curls. My eyes are quiet, and my lips are cracked. I’m wearing a black hoodie that has a faded Boston College across it in yellow. I’m wearing a pair of my ripped jeans with the nearest belt I could on. I’m wearing my old broken-up Reeboks whose laces are all notched up, but I don’t have a care to fix them.
I open the door of the cafe and see the different groups. There’s a group of college students studying on a group project. Across from them, there’s an elderly book club meeting that meets every Tuesday and Friday. Then there’s the group of young couples all together–my second date this week sits at the table scrolling on her phone.
She has blonde hair and blue eyes that give off a friendly demeanor. She’s wearing a yellow and white striped burger-style polo with a jean skirt and a nice shiny pair of Docs. She’s the complete opposite of what I used to have.
I blink my eyes several times to try and get them not as dry and bring out the pop that she used to say they always had. I licked my lips to make them not cracked and broken and went and sat down across from her.
“Hey, I’m Adam. Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, Hi there, I’m Gemma, which you obviously know, heh, you look..different”
“Really, huh, how so?”
“Your profile had these photos of you where you looked clean and happy, you look kinda..Sad, I guess, is a way to put it!”
“Yeah, sorry, I was in a rush. I’m going through some..things”
