So here I am sat in Starbucks, this cafeteria of noise, finding it hard to cope with the realisation that I just wasted my money and time walking all the way to this Starbucks to write and possibly read, how I am even focused enough to write is a mystery to me. Looking around I realise I’m one of the only ‘lone’ people in this packed, upstairs room. I wonder what people think I am doing here alone, maybe they think I am waiting for someone or just here to work, who knows? All I know is that I regret wearing my new patent shoes, wearing my expensive perfume and even styling my hair that I’ll now have to wash out again later, all to waste my time impressing no one..
It’s him, asking about shoes for his friends birthday gift. I try to let him hear the desperation in my voice, loneliness, boredom, but it fails to be noticed. ‘I love you’
Someone takes the empty chair from in front of me without saying a word, I guess by now everyone here knows that no one is joining me and some how the empty space the chair left just makes me feel more isolated and part of me just wants to be swallowed up by the noise that surrounds me, leave my full cup and just walk home. The time I had chosen to be with my thoughts has become thought consuming, an uncomfortable nightmare. Sat by the doorway I am the first to receive stares of people who’s disapproving glares tell me they deserve my table more than me, I am but one person and they are many. I want my drink to end and can’t help but hate myself for not just carrying on walking alone, no one would question that, walking, people assume has an end, a destination. To walk alone is to walk with purpose, to sit alone brings only judgment. I take bigger gulps of my drink and pray to see the mocha stained bottom of my cup, at least I have Melody Gardot to keep my words company as they appear on the paper.
‘Shores may never reach the tide’
Melody sings this line so sweetly into my ears and I agree silently. I need a tide of my own, a tock to my tick and my ship needs to leave this dock. I skip the song, another eight more, ‘The Rain’. I stop and look around the room, smiles on faces, many faces, moments shared that will remain between them and only them. In a room like this people like me disappear amongst the moments and into the walls and that’s ok, for today their moment is my moment as I watch, imagine and wish not to be here, alone, isolated and longing for more.
Half a cup still left and I’m suddenly thrown into a pit of embarrassment, mentally playing over the scene when I had asked for the coconut cake only to realise I didn’t have enough money and having to ask her to put it back, her face remained so pleasant but I could feel her laughing. Another gulp of my cup, the room is slowly changing, faces are different when I lift my face from my page. I pick up my phone and send a tweet
‘lonesome #mocha with my thoughts ‘
I long to be outside and feel the cool rain on my face, walk slowly to my flat to delay my return to the mess that waits there that I will need to clean and organise. I take off my coat to make it seem less like I never intended to stay.
I text him
‘where you at now? x’ (delivered)
he replies ‘Asda’
I don’t open it.
I take a picture for Instagram and post it with my usual hashtags and hope for likes, the hipster guys get up to leave, ears stretched and beanie hats. My mocha tastes cold on my tongue now and my bottom is numb. The four foot diameter that surrounds me creates a spotlight and I shudder. I refresh my phone, no likes.
The barista walks up to me and asks me if I am finished with my drink even though I had more than enough in my cup.
‘ Yes, yes I am’