ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰɪɴᴇ // 𝐦𝐠𝐜 - 𝐚𝐟𝐢

CIGARETTE 1

CIGARETTE 1

It's warm inside. It feels much better than outside. I wish his heart felt like the heat of this coffee shop where I sit every day with a hot coffee while I look outside the window and watch the snow fall gracefully on the dirty pavement as the people pass by with a smile on their faces.

The black coffee on the paper cup warms my hands the way I wish his love warmed my heart.

I know he cares, I know he loves me. He says it every day before he leaves for college, so it's true. Why would he lie?

I'm no-one to talk. I lie to him every day, but he doesn't know. I know we aren't supposed to hide things from the ones we love and we shouldn't keep secrets from them, but I can't help it, you know? How do we tell them we aren't alright without seeming selfish? How do I tell him that maybe I'm not alright every time he asks me how I am?

You can't. You don't. You always keep it to yourself. You don't tell the others how you are truly feeling. I don't do it. It's true, I don't. Why would I do such thing? Would it change anything?

I don't think so.

I bring the hot cup to my lips and take some spins. It's warm, unlike my heart.

My hands are warm like the coffee and my heart is cold like the weather.

I look outside one more time and it's not snowing anymore. The view is painted in a grey scale, but it never looked so beautiful.

I get up from the wooden chair I'm sat on and walk outside the coffee shop with my cup of black coffee in my hands. I like to think the color of it matches with my soul.

A beanie on my head, a scarf wrapped around my neck and a coat half zipped protects me from the cold New York streets but it's not the warm clothes that keeps my heart warm.

What would do the job? A hug?

I walk down the busy street, taking sips from my paper cup until there's no more coffee to drink. Deciding to stop at the Central Park, I throw my empty cup on a trash bin and sit down on a bench.

My eyes roam around my surroundings and I study them carefully. I like to study people, they take me out of my world, making me create a whole new one. A better one. It's my distraction when I have to escape from my own head.

Across from me and a several meters away, it's two kids playing with the snow. They look so happy while they throw snowballs at one another. A smile is placed on their lips while giggles escapes their mouths. Behind them, sat on a park bench is a couple in their thirties talking. They are probably the kids' parents. I bet they are talking about what they are going to do for dinner or where are they going on the next holidays.

I wonder if I'll ever be like them. Happy, married, with kids, a good job and a good house to match. I actually see a future with him, beside him and with his kids​. Does he see the same with me? I won't keep my hopes high, but they are still there.

From my coat's pocket, I take out a pack of camel cigarettes along with a black lighter. Placing the cigarette between my lips, I light it up and take a deep drag.

The smoke fills my lungs in a sort of relief way. In a sigh, I exhale the smoke, forming a cloud in front of me.

This is kind of a ritual. After college, I go to the same coffee shop, order a black coffee and after half an hour I come to Central Park to smoke a cigarette.