Please, for one moment, forget that I am not a serious type of person. This just came to me on the sixth of February and I felt as if I could try my luck at stuff like this. Ha. :)
***
The first time it happened, she was on a local coffee shop indulged in a book she only wanted to read because it was about to be released through the silver screen. It was the perfect setting, for her at least.
The afternoon wasn’t gloomy but it wasn’t as cheery that it didn’t entirely break the sentimental mode she was in.
The place itself was already too much of a sentimental value. As she sipped cautiously from her mug that held her favorite coffee hostage, she nearly smiled when a thought reminded her how this place changed her life.
She met him here and there’s where it all started.
Apparently, it’s also where it ended.
She focused back to her book as she gently placed the mug on the coffee table. She had been reading the same sentence over and over in effort to bury the rush of emotions she felt. For the first time in a long time, she let herself feel – she let herself remember.
The second time it happened, it was still in that coffee shop. It never really changed since the last time she was here. It still smelled coffee and heck; it was a coffee shop for crying out loud.
As she approached the counter to get a to-go order of her favorite coffee, it happened again. That freaking piece of furniture reminded her of the first time they talked. She remembered staring at the abstract painting not because she liked it but because there weren’t so many interesting things to stare at. Then, from out of nowhere, he said something and it changed her – them – forever.
He said the painting was nice; she didn’t agree. She didn’t even understand. She was never an artistic person, not even an appreciative one to start with. So, she just shrugged and the next few days had been an unplanned exchange of opinions about the most uninteresting thing in the world.
She didn’t realize she was staring at it for too long. She didn’t even realize she had tears in her eyes. If only she had tried to understand more about him, they would have lasted longer. She never really liked sappy love songs but somehow, the soft music inside the café decided to lunge in at that moment of her vulnerability.
He liked love songs. He also liked to rap. He liked an uninteresting piece of furniture and that’s the whole reason why they aren’t together anymore. He loved the world too greatly; she didn’t like it that much.
He said he was leaving, she let him go; both knowing that the four-letter word wouldn’t be enough. She stayed where she was and he took the high road. He had always been the one with the big dreams and right at that moment, while staring at the most uninteresting thing in the world, she wished she knew how to dream, too.
Maybe, it would have worked.
She didn’t realize she had been staring at the uninteresting piece of furniture for too long until a voice spoke from behind her.
“That’s a nice painting.”
For the second time in her life, she let herself feel. She let herself remember. She knew who that voice belonged to. She turned to the owner of the voice and that’s where she knew.
Second chances do happen.
She smiled. He returned the smile.
She smiled because after all these years of coming back to this place over and over, her hopes turned into something real. There were so many things she gave up in her life but he wasn’t one of them. She came back here every year, on the same date they first noticed the most uninteresting thing in the world – all the while hoping she’d see him again. All the while hoping he’d make that uninteresting thing, interesting because with him, she found meaning in everything.
She nodded, “Yes. It’s a nice painting.”
She still didn’t understand the abstract of a painting that it was but it was a nice painting indeed; because for the second time in her life, the most uninteresting thing in the world just gave her a chance she never gave herself.
A chance for love.
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