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One day you asked me to meet you at the nearest Starbucks. “I want to have coffee with you,” you said. But I know it is not just coffee that you want.

You said you’ll meet me there at three. If that was not what I thought it was, you would have picked me and we would have gone together.

I arrived at four. I saw you sitting with two coffees. You were more than halfway through with yours and the other one had the whipped cream already falling. Just like how we were almost through and falling apart.

“I am sorry for taking so long,” I said. I was thinking of not going, you know.

“It’s okay,” you replied. No, baby, it was not okay. We both knew it wasn’t. 

You kept bringing that up, but I would always brush it off. You kept saying we grew apart and that we have been so lost. You kept saying how we were too young and too dumb, and now we knew better.

“I’m sorry,” you told me very sincerely.

“Please,” I said. Please don’t go on. Please don’t say it.

I picked my purse, and left you. I just cannot let that end. I just cannot let us end. Please.


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