If our love was a book, I guess chapter 1 is when we meet with shy smiles across the cafe. The smell of coffee on my dress when you clumsily walk by and drop your cup. Your blush- red like cherry blossom through red apples. Then our laughter, a mix of high and low..timid but full of sparks.
I was the damsel in a black laced dress hanging just above my knee..sitting at one corner with a half-eaten jelly doughnut and a steaming cup of coffee. And you were the guy with a white shirt looking cool.. steering your own mug while trying to catch my eyes covered with my hair of curls.
And so when cups of coffee began our love story, we danced through starry starry nights along the harmonies of the voices and laughs. Never forgetting the smell of coffee and perfume..the first time we smiled..the first time our eyes met. And now through the days our hearts have broken and mended.
But of course, if our love was a book, the last page would be our goodbye..
Because I realized you were the ideal man. Perfect in every way. You have the charisma, the wealth, the looks, the confidence and everything else. And I was nothing.
He was too complete that I was a piece trying to fit in. Like the perfect cup of coffee, he does not need more..he does not need less…he does not need me.
And so the book ends in goodbye.