Catch-22 | SFK

III

To forgive and forget, or to forgive and never forget?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating/cheating, heartbreak, breakups, sadness, regret, very brief mention of blood/bleeding, anxiety, brief mention of addiction, brief mention of blades/knives, mentions of drinking, lots of angst, sorry if i miss any!!

The city was lively, the streets filled to the brim with people who were trying to fit in their last minute Christmas shopping. Snow was stuck to the ground, forming a thin white blanket over the dying grass and littering the sidewalks with puddles and patchy ice. Mothers were frantically searching through stores in an attempt to find their children the perfect presents. The coffee shops and restaurants were overwhelmed with elderly couples on weekend dates and teenagers who were doing all they could to avoid sitting alone in their bedrooms. You were doing none of those things, yet still found yourself amidst the chaos of the town.

Your youngest sister had begged you all morning to take her shopping so she could find a gift for her friend group's annual secret Santa. Every year since middle school, you had taken her out for the occasion, and this year appeared no different. While she browsed around antique stores and bought little gifts to show her love, you revisited your most precious memories of the town you once knew so well. You allowed her all the time in the world to shop around so you could finish up a final project for one of your classes. Once you knew she was safe and sound inside a store (even though she was nearly an adult, you could not seem to shake off the fear that you felt when she was young) you grabbed your laptop from the backseat and headed down the street towards your long time favorite cafe.

When you went inside, the smell hit you with an intense nostalgic feeling. It nearly brought you to your knees as you looked around at the half-filled booths and scanned the local artists paintings hung on the walls. It was a beautiful place, yet the memories seemed to fade into a blur of sadness as time went on. In the very back corner, a tattered booth they never cared to replace had your initials carved right above Sam's, encased in a poorly made heart. In the bathroom, there was a stall in which you cried after seeing Sam holding the hand of a girl you could not remember the name of shortly after you had broken up for the first time. Behind the counter, there was a collage of photographs from regulars that frequented the establishment, including a picture of you and Ellie when you came to celebrate her elementary school graduation.

The memories were not all bad, yet the painful ones always seemed to overshadow the moments of joyous simplicity.

The workers knew your face so well that they could spot you across the street. You spent so much time there that long ago, your friends knew not to check for you at your house, but rather the cafe tucked in a quiet corner just off of the busy downtown streets. Many books were read, many school projects were completed in the very booth that adorned yours and Sam's mark of forever, and the memories were so abundant that you could never even begin to recall them all. You loved it, but in the same way that a flame loves oxygen. You were drawn to it, but it seemed that the more you gave in to the temptation, the more dangerous it became.

"Can I get a latte made with oat milk and a double shot of double espresso?" You asked the worker awaiting your order as you began picking some change out of your pocket. The young girl was new there, that much was obvious. She typed the order into the screen with a shaking hand while avoiding eye contact.

"Anything else?" She asked, feigning her best smile.

"Chocolate muffin, too." You added, your eyes catching the glow of the pastry case.

"Sure thing. Six dollars, please." She said, extending the nervous hand towards you. You placed a ten in her palm, giving a reassuring smile as you moved to the end of the counter. It seemed like she was stunned from the generous tip, but you paid it no mind. You tapped your foot against the ground while waiting for your coffee cup to be placed on the counter. You tried your best to keep your gaze settled on the floor rather than the booth that was calling to you. You hated that Sam was embedded in every room you entered and every street you walked on. All it did was remind you that no matter where you found yourself, he would always be there in some sick way, ensuring you could never forget.