weakness
july 30, 2007

He made his way slowly towards the coffee shop that she described on the phone. "Maybe I came too early," he reassured himself and slowed his pace even more.

She was sitting not too far from the entrance so that she could hear whenever the door opened, but her back was to him as he walked into the shop. She was fumbling through her purse as though she'd have to run home to make sure she hadn't lost whatever it was she was missing, but he sat down.

"You're not missing anything - you're just keeping yourself busy," he said warmly.

And even with her head buried in her bag, she was not startled when he spoke. She had known he was there as soon as he opened the door - completely sure that he'd drag his feet because he knew she hated it. "You're late," she said more in desperation than anger.

"You were afraid I wouldn't come? I just got lost on the way," he lied.

"You could have called," she answered, finally looking up at his face. The conversations of strangers punctuated the silence between them. He started to look away, ashamed of being caught in such a stupid lie, so she spoke again, "You look great."

"You look the same," came his soft and immediate reply.

She should have expected something like this, she thought to herself. After all of these years he hadn't changed. "You haven't changed," she said.

"You already told me I look great," he said.

The corners of her lips began to turn to give him an appreciative smile that disappeared almost immediately at the sight of him getting up. Without knowing it, she was on her feet, too.

"Emily - I'm just buying a drink," he said, alarmed by the look on her face. "What do you want to drink?"

"Nothing," she said absentmindedly - thinking only of how much she hated the way she was acting right now.

"They'll kick you out of the shop if you keep sitting here without buying anything," he laughed. She made no reply.

He waited in line thinking he'd just get her whatever he was getting. In his heart he was too scared to turn around and see her - still standing there - looking frightened ... as though he were leaving her again. A feeling of guilt grew within him. He couldn't help but want to smile at her reassuringly, but as he turned around, she had already returned to fussing with her purse.

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every time i write something like this, i first get anxious about my terrible punctuation. then, i get the usual fear that i'm unintentionally plagiarizing something ... that these things that play out in my head really came from some book or movie. sigh ...