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It took us years of sitting at our favorite spot, until our coffees turned cold and our late afternoon jokes didn't brought that familiar glint in our eyes anymore. Within those years, it took us a lot of time sitting in to different seats—wondering where we truly belong—but still we ended up coming back at our spot beside the glass window, watching the bustling crowds go on with their own lives. But, within those years it only took us a month to realized that the coffee we chose for each other weren't enough to make us both stay. But even though I left, I can still find myself coming back at our spot—ordering the same coffee you gave and tear myself into pieces at every sip as I watch your halfway done, cold, coffee cup placed across the table where I used to find you.
