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Mithila.
I didn't know where I was going. The only thing I knew was I was no longer in the same neighbourhood. Or mine. I stopped in front of a cafe, and glanced inside, noticing it being almost empty except a few people with laptops and notebooks; university students.
I walk in, my hair blowing back with the force, and sticking to my glossed lips, making me hum in disgust. I peel away the pieces of her and my feet carry me forward to the cashier, and I order myself a cappuccino, and sit down at a table in the far corner, pulling out my phone and opening the messenger app;
YOU
Amyra
Can we talk?
I need an explanation
[Sorry! an error occurred. would you like to try sending the messages again?]
[yes] [no]
Sighing, I dropped my phone on the table just as a waiter placed my tray. Noticing my obvious distress, she placed a hand on my shoulder, "Boy problems?"
"Kind of." I answer back, not wanting to tell a random stranger about my personal problems. "Sweetheart, I'll just let you know, if neither of you are fighting to keep both the boat afloat, it wasn't meant to be. Enjoy your coffee." She patted my shoulder and walked away, whistling some old song. I drank my coffee slowly, my thoughts nothing but a mess; a big, wild mess.
I reached home and slipped off my shoes, and walked to my room, shutting and locking the door behind me. I walked towards my blank bulletin board and pinned down an essay I had written in grade 11; when I knew what I wanted to do. I knew I had to leave for South Korea in three months. I grabbed a post-it note and a marker from my table, and scribbled;
Hankuk University of Foreign Studies, Seoul. Pinned.
Relationships. Ripped.
Writing. Pinned.
Literature. Pinned.
Amyra.
I stare at the note for minutes on end, wondering whether I should decide to let go by ripping the note and moving on, or if I should pin it up. My hands trembled as I held onto the paper from two corners and brought down my fingers in the opposite directions, ripping the note in half. I ripped it over and over again until the paper was nothing. I felt better. I stared at the bulletin board with a smile, a genuine one, and threw my notepad and marker on my table. I crawled into my closet and sat down, staring at my suitcase that now seemed to be staring back at me.
Not today.
Calling it a day, I crawled back out and slid under my covers, turned off the lamp and fell asleep, knowing tomorrow was gonna be better.
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