Emotions are a Funny, Complicated Thing.

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History
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Has dejavu ever been so confusing you didn't know if it was a memory or a dream? I didn't know what brought me back here, maybe the nagging feeling of forgetting something or unfinished business. I never thought I would be able to come back. Since that day, five years ago really, second-guessing myself wouldn't go away. And I don't know if that's a good thing or not.

The familiar smell of bittersweet coffee beans floated through my senses. The occasional burst of voices cutting through the murmurs happening every once in awhile made me smile. And the taste of nostalgia swam on my tongue from the coffee I sipped throughout the hour I've sat here.

I didn't need to write anymore in my journal. I stopped as soon as the book was published a few months ago. Some critics called it "good" even "refreshing". If I knew people would enjoy my book that I titled Inspiring Writing, I should have published all my adventures a long time ago.

"Excuse me sir," I turned to see a woman with strawberry blond hair, wearing the coffee shop's logo on her apron. "Want me to take your trash off your hands?" she asked pointing to my finished cup. Something about her seemed eerily familiar, but I couldn't find the memory. She looked free although, like nothing could stand in her way.

I nodded handing her my trash from the table. A flash from her hand made me look down, swiftly as she grabbed my paper cup, I could see the quick movement of a diamond ring. She gave me one last smile and walked away. Looking away from the window I sat by I could see everyone in the room fully. Dark chairs were filled around the room; peacefulness was the unspoken truth for this place. Once you walk in through the Kelly green doors, instantly you fall in love with Java Superb.

No doubt nothing has happened since that day. I traveled more, to the undiscovered places and adventurous days. I can't say it's been easy; the constant remembrance of her face always invades my mind. Her soft words and blue eyes that pierced through my heart. Five years have gone by, I know things can change; people come and go, make new memories, but I can't get her out of my head.

Turning back to the window that overlooked the street I couldn't help but find myself back into a memory I thought I escaped. Small shops along the red brick road, cold gray sky above the never sleeping city, but something here was significantly different. The mood around the room has changed, instead of the intense feeling of sadness that only the most observant could notice; now the place reeked of optimistic joy.

As the window in front separated me from the brick road, it was busier than I remember. Couples walked hand in hand, friends laughed and shared stories, joyous people walked in and out of the shops. An almost middle-aged duo walked down, with the woman's head on the man's shoulder. I knew exactly who they were; I couldn't forget the man's big smile and stand out pajamas. Never will I understand why he walked in that day like that.

Another person walked by; they were younger than the first. He had the blondest hair I have ever seen, and the young man wore a wool sweater that looked as worn out as the expression on his face. I hoped whatever he had gone through could be easily forgotten. Letting go is the best policy when going through a situation you feel like you can't escape. Unless if you give up without a fight. But the young man looked like he had just gotten out of a battle of the heart.

My spirits were instantly lifted when a young couple walked by with intertwined hands and love clearly written on their faces. He had the wild curly hair as she the dark raven hair. They look undeniably happy being at each other's sides. I had the undeniable feeling they were the lucky ones that could last.