Saying I love you
Is not the words I want to hear from you
It's not that I want you
Not to say but if you only knew
How easy, it would be to show me how you feel
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn't have to say
th...
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✤
"Maybe i just wanna fly wanna live but don't wanna die maybe i just wanna breathe Maybe i just don't believe Maybe you are the same as me We see things we never seen You and I are gonna live forever..."
Live Forever by Oasis was blasting through the speakers while a wave of depression and panic hit me like a truck.
I parked in the middle of some random street in New York, staring at the window, and thought: Well done, Diane. You've really outdone yourself this time.
"What the hell was I thinking?" I smacked my forehead against the steering.
"Me. Alone. In a country I know nothing about. No job. No flat. No money...Brilliant..."
I looked around. Empty street. Neon lights flickering and then I saw it — a small café glowing red and green, like Christmas threw up on it.
"And hungry," I added, as my stomach growled.
I sighed.
"Maybe I should call Father... say sorry, crawl back home, pretend this was just a phase."
Then I glanced at my bags in the back seat — two suitcases, a half-broken Walkman, and my questionable life choices. Tears threatened to fall as I cursed the moment my brilliant mind thought 'hey, let's run away to the other side of the world!' Like that was ever going to fix my problems.
"But I hate it there... I can't go back. You've made it this far, Diane. You've crossed the bloody Atlantic. Be strong..." Pause.
And there I was again, talking to myself. I like to call it thinking out loud, but who am I kidding? I'm a bloody psycho. 'God, I sound like a motivational poster.'
Finally, I decided to head to that small café, nothing a good cup of coffee can't fix—at least for me. Which is ironic, considering I'm supposed to prefer tea. But honestly? It's overrated.
I grabbed my coat, stepped out, and immediately got drenched. Of course it's raining.
"Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant."
By the time I made it to the café soaking wet, the sign above the door read Central Perk. Catchy. Inside, a bald guy was wiping mugs while not-so-discreetly staring at a girl on the phone. From the way she giggled and said, "sexy pants," I could safely assume it wasn't her dad on that phone. Gross.
I plopped myself onto the big orange couch, shivering and started rummaging through my purse for coins. Bald Guy approached, looking apologetic.
"Uh, miss? We're about to close."
"Mate please, can I at least have a hot cup of coffee? I've just flown eleven bloody hours, I'm soaked, broke, and freezing —please..."
I looked at him expectantly, waiting for his name.
