Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Nevermind. I'll Find Someone Like You.

Guess where I found myself this morning.

The quaint coffee shop just off of campus where I sat studying my freshman year of college. The same coffee shop where I started my very first blog.

I needed to be inspired, so I went there. The whole place has been remodeled, but it still has the hardwood floors I dearly loved.

This whole day held an air of memories. It's only the last day of August, but it feels like fall. The moist air, the smell of smoke, and the coffee tastes richer. Coffee always tastes more rich in the fall, doesn't it?

I can't decided if I'm okay with this. Normally, I welcome the start of fall with open arms, and I am excited for it, but this year feels different. Maybe it's because we had such a cold spring and the weather didn't get warm until late June. I just feel like there is still more summer to experience. I'm not quite ready to trade the feel of the sun kissing my bare legs for tights. And I never got around to making a peach pie or cherry tart all summer.

I still wanted to go the amusement park and take a trip to Seattle. But I wanted to do those things with him. And maybe that's why I'm mad at summer's end. When the summer ends I know it'll really feel over.

He will go on with her. I will start my class. I will pour everything I have into my work. I will search for a job and an apartment. Hopefully, buy a new puppy. I will buy tons of kitchen equipment and cook fabulous things all the time. I will finally get around to reading all those Fitzgerald novels on my shelf. I'll explore more of my hobbies, rekindle my love to sew, learn more about wine. I will meet new friends and have plenty of good times with old ones. And slowly, I will do all theses things until one morning I won't be able to feel him anymore. He will be nothing more than a sweet, but vague memory of the man I once loved with every ounce of myself.

It's astonishing how knowledge of this is so heartbreaking and comforting all at once. That I will be able to move past him. I will be able to love somebody else. Yet, loving someone else means I will never love him the same way again. It will be further strained. Broken just a little bit more than it was before.

But I suppose even broken glass is beautiful.

So, rich coffee tasting, smoky, near fall day, maybe you will give way to a beautiful mosaic.

Post title from Adele's "Someone Like You"

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