What is it about Thursday nights?

I’m sitting outside of the coffee shop that’s a few blocks away from work. It’s early and the morning seems more refreshing than ever. I’m in a table set for two but I’m the only one taking up a seat. I usually find this shop soothing. On Thursday, as I waited for the usual 9:45 to hit.  I sat and thought of him, I remembered different mornings I’ve had before. I missed him, everything. His smile when woke up, his warmth while we drank coffee in bed, and the way his smell always reminded me of a safe place. I snapped out of it and looked up towards the moving cars driving by. Miami is still its normal Thursday morning self. I stood up from the tiny table and left.

Later that day, after work, I found myself drizzled in his memory again. Thoughts of him came back into my mind and I couldn’t pull myself together to forget it. Instead I confronted his ghost. I didn’t know what to do, what to say, or how to do it altogether. All I knew is that inside me I felt something bigger than me, something real. He was important to me. Now, he was just someone I once knew but someone I hadn’t forgotten much about. Again, he was still important to me none the less.

I wrote: “Are you busy?”

Moments passed and I swallowed my fears as I hit send.

(It’s been months since we last spoke.)

He wrote: Talk to me. Are you okay?

That was it. My morning and my entire afternoon changed as the ghost of my loves past and I made meeting up plans.

 

The hours passed and I was still clueless about him and these arrangements. I wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing. Then again, there isn’t a right or wrong thing to do. There are just moments. There are certain situations that sometimes just outweigh others.  What I felt and the curiosity I still had about him outweighed my own fears. I drove to him. He drove to me and just like that we sat at a nearby bar on a table set for two and I wasn’t the only one taking up a seat. Instead, I was locking eyes with a man i had much love for, a man that was with me once before. Only this time, after months I noticed as I stared into those familiar eyes that people we meet --like him come into our lives rarely. I’m talking about to those who touch our souls and lives in a way we can’t explain. Those few people who make it hard to forget them.

I still loved him.

 

And suddendly Thursday nights became loved too.