UNCENSORED (For Publication)

Caramel Macchiatto (10)

Sitting here in a Boba Shop, waiting for my order that you used to. The scent of caramelmacchiato and the strong scent of wasabi paste from clubhouse sandwiches still linger on mysenses everay time I step in the shop. The smoke coming from the grill, and the sound of blenderblending the teas and milk together are all that I miss. The hanging lamps lighting the emptyseats with litters from people who once seated in and talked about the miseries in their life, andtheir obsession with their exes.

"Good food, good people, and good times." This is just a tagline from this shop, andsomehow, I wish I don't get sued. Good food, you once said this place was your favorite. Goodpeople, as you said that you brought confidants here to talk about the good times you had withthem. So, when you brought me here in this café, even just for once, I felt nostalgic rememberingthose smiles and laughter we shared.

Refrigerator magnets around the country that are somehow displayed on metal boardswith wooden frames, with colorful designs and smiles that are based on their culturalfestivities-what is it to keep, they say, if they are not experienced and treasured along themoments on their journey. That is why I kept you. Was it because your magnet has a limit oflongevity for you to not stick anymore, or just the Earth shook your world, for you to give up onmy lifeless frame.

Frames with black and white photographs around the world displayed in a horizontalline-yet, as I imagine the point of views of those photographers taking them, were they justamazed by the view? I mean did they feel lonely taking them? Did they imagine having someoneby their side, or just their subject taking them? Do they travel just by themselves, or are theytraveling with the feeling of being with their departed ones? It reminds me of the moment Ireceived my order. I took a photograph showing my laptop typing this prose beside my order. Ithen realized after nostalgia, that somehow, I started to feel enlightened by the kind words fromthe top shelf on the counter, "Welcome to our happy place."

For years, I have been keeping myself away from a single light. I don't want to feel againthe pleasure I have with someone then will turn off the lights when the moment they realize that Iam not worth of lighting. This is when I realize that I am now illuminated by a lamp on top ofme. It is luminescent. So warm. So calming. Somehow, I want to cry with the music being playedon the speaker. I was so focused on the world of romance that I forgot that happiness can alsocome from strangers' rumors and laughs, air conditioned rooms with an aesthetic design,furnished tables with funny designs, refrigerator magnets, hanging lamps, and a caramel macchiato milk tea.