Little pearls of my mind

One

"She loved with all the more passion than she loved ignorantly. She did not know whether it was good or bad, useful or dangerous, necessary or fatal, eternal or transient, permitted or prohibited; she loved." - Victor Hugo, Les misérables. 

Today it's Thuesday. I'm in the coffee bar like every days after school. 

I'm seating at the same place as usual, at the 4th table, at the right of the front door. My coffee tastes good and I had a good day. I can see at the window at my left, the sun sets. The sky is a gradient from red to orange, and it's beautiful. The world is beautiful.

 The movement of the leaves of the trees let me understand that there is a light breeze outside. We are at the beginning of autumn and the temperatures are gradually decreasing. We start to pull out our coats and in the morning, water vapor comes out of our mouths when we speak. I like this season. I like this season because it's neither very cold nor very hot, it's soft. And it's pretty calm outside. Trees change their green color for the charming yellow, the soothing orange and the dazzling red. 

At my place, I can observe every person in the coffee bar. There is a group of girls at a table, they are drinking diferents drinks and they are all speaking together about something looking interesting. It also have a boy at the bar drinking a beer, he looks tired like all evenings. 

The coffee bar seems like a house for me; I'm standing there as long as I can. It's a peaceful place, calm and welcoming. It's always the same people who come, for example, on Mondays there is this young girl who comes to see her secret lover; Tuesday is this man at the bar, he is there Tuesday and Thursday; on Wednesdays there are only me apart from a few strangers who come irregularly and on Fridays there are always a lot of young high school students who come to regroup after their lessons. And on the week-end there's a lot of people like that girl who continually reads, she reminds me of me younger, always with a book under my eyes and my famous round glasses with my best music playlist ringing in my ears. 

I miss those days. 

The boy has just entered. Every Thursday I always wait for him to come, I'm a bit like the Monday girl except we're not in love, I'm in love, not him. But it doesn't bother me that much. I love this relationship we have, our looks, our furtive smiles. He always sits two tables to the left of the door, so two tables away from me, so that he is in front of me. So I can see him drinking his black tea while he is working on his computer. He writes a blog where he posts poems and he gives his opinion on them, all this while remaining anonymous. I have already come across his blog, being a big fan of poetry and writing, I found it in my recommendations. I like what he writes.

I can see his sensitivity in his writing, his hope, his despair, it's like seeing him naked. 

It's a little bit disturbing but, someday, i hope that it can have a "us" and "we". But that's just a little pearl of my mind. 

I know that it can't exist. 

His girlfriend arrived ten minutes after him, she is early.