Rated: 13+ · Essay · Experience · #1510440
Feelings discovered on the walk for coffee
|THE WALK FOR COFFEE|
He made a mistake. Some may think it a cavalier term, maybe even callous to refer to the pain he caused as simply a ”mistake’. But that’s how I see it. “Want to get a cup of coffee”? And of course I do. He knows I always do. Just the chance to spend time with him, coffee or not. Does he know that or does he really believe I need the caffeine this morning? I watch him as we walk, still appearing so young, so in awe of what’s around him. We pass the Unitarian church; ominous, deliberate and looming in the early dawn. I see it and think of Halloween. But I can’t remember a Halloween spent with him.
“I’ll buy”. That I can let him do. We both know that what I have done cannot be repaid with a cup of coffee. But I wanted to do it. I want him near me and to need me for as long as we both can stomach the closeness. He brings me the blend I favor sans cream or sugar. Such a little remembrance that means so very much to me. I thank him and he stares at me The air has already changed and his eyes are begging me to make it all go away. He is looking for guidance. He is lost. Sorry for what he did, wondering if he is an evil monster or a pitiful bum or just a man who was being a man. I can’t guide him. I can’t even blame him. An err in judgment or a moment of selfishness. Does it even need to be named or reflected on?
Today I know he will cry. But not at first. First he will see hope. An extended conversation that isn’t tainted with anger or disappointment. Perhaps a smirk or detected smile. Maybe this is all over and the penance has been served. Maybe we can go back to normal. But the feeling is fleeting. The next moment he will feel judged. He will feel it because it will be real. The regret flooding in and filling him. I see it on his face, in the way he stands and the speed of his movements. His clothes will suddenly swallow him and his eyes will go dark. It doesn’t matter now if he is sorry or if he feels complete remorse. It’s done and it can’t be undone.
“Let’s get the paper and go home.” I buy the Times and the News. We walk past Elmwood Taco and Sub, toward home talking about nothing. More specifically trying to talk about anything but that which we now always seem to discuss. Discussion without resolution, without conclusion. You cannot press the restart button. My heart is aching for him today but I know tomorrow he may leave. It will be over and he will be gone. I want his pain to end but I don’t want this to end. Whatever this is to him, it has awakened me. He’ll never understand what a gift his mistake has been to me.