“You know Harmony, maybe you should give him another chance.” Mum’s voice rings through the speakers of the car as I take the short journey to work. I decided to call mum this morning and basically fill her in on everything else that has been happening.
Mum’s like my best friend, I tell her everything and I know I can always count on her advice back. But right at this minute I am questioning her sanity.
“I get it’s only around 8am in the morning, but that’s the best advice you could come up with?” I sarcastically reply, trying to keep my concentration on the road, instead of the conversation at hand.
Don’t get me wrong I am a great multi tasker and this hands free, Bluetooth mobile thing is a great invention. But maybe I should have picked a better time to talk about such a thoughtful conversation, rather than 8am in the morning whilst driving through Melbourne’s busiest road.
“Don’t patronize me young lady. The time has nothing to do with my advice. I really think you connected with him well the first time, and we both know everyone deserves a second chance.” She matter-of-factly points out and I nod my head agreeing with the second chance part, even though she can’t see me.
These are the times that I wish my mum was wrong, and that she doesn’t have more world experience than me. The times I wish she was like an over protective mum who would never let her daughter go near such a man. But that’s not her, which makes part of me grateful, but the other part hate it.
“I see you have figured out I’m right, considering the amount of time you are taking to reply.” She chuckles on the other end of the line and I roll my eyes at her cockiness.
“It’s easier said than done mum, you know how I have problems with my trust and he’s already destroyed it once. I don’t think I could take another hit.” I sigh, while trying to concentrate on my exceptionally bad reverse parking skills.
“Well tell him that, tell him exactly how you feel. Make sure he knows that this time you’re in charge. Take it slow and don’t fall to deep.”
“I’ve already fell.” I mumble taking the keys out of the ignition and chucking them into my bag before running my hands through my kept down hair.
“Then get back up harmony.” She tells me sternly. “I have to go now, call me soon alright. I love you.” Mum tells me, before hanging up the phone after I say my goodbyes.
I love that about my mum that she knows just the right things to say. She has grown me up to be an independent woman who doesn’t need a guy by her side 24/7 and she knows that I can get back up, unharmed and ready to go again. But this time I think it’s harder, because my trust wasn’t just broken by friendship. It was broken by the heart.
-
I chuck my bag down next to me and sit on the seat I claimed off harry the first day of work. The city streets are busy today, full of people shopping, taking a walk or buskers. The joy about this seat is that it’s right on the roads edge so I can nearly see everyone and everything from this seat. A busker plays right near me every day, giving me soft music to calm down to. Every day I throw him a $2 coin praising him for doing such a wonderful job and every day he thanks me for listening.
I pull my legs off the ground today and cross them up on the chair, leaning my usual ham sandwich between my lap. The busker I have grown accustom to plays a soft version of fix you by Coldplay, adding in his own little touch to it. His brown acoustic guitar is slung over his shoulder and the black guitar bag lays on the ground in front of him. We share a polite nod as I begin to eat my sandwich and he continues to play.
I feel him coming before I see him. It’s like a weird Harry sense I have grown accustom to. He sits down at the end of the bench, far enough for myself to still feel comfortable. I’m surprised when he pulls out one of his granola bars and doesn’t even make a comment about how I’m in ‘his seat’ again. He looks as nervous as I am, but we both stay quiet hoping for one another to begin the talking.
