A Memoir of a Coffee Like Relationship

I can't face reality and I feel sorry for myself.
Weak? Yes, I am weak.

"A coffee is perfect when the bitter taste moistens your throat, the sweet sugar teases your tongue and the aroma absorbs all of your attention"

It was a tiring day at campus. With my Harvard sweat-shirt and tight jeans, I ran in to the Bilkent University bus that will take me home, a place that keeps me warmth and feeds me when hunger strikes. It was in the middle of a rush hour so traffic jam no longer surprises me. I should have thought about that though before making a promise to "a special someone" for a skype call.

Yes, the person I'm going to talk to is a special someone, someone who is extremely important in deciding my happiness. A person that can make me the happiest person in the world, but in a given time also puts me in my greatest depression. Which she did, in a given time. And yes, it's a "she".

Weakling you say? Yes, I am weak.

After arriving home, I didn't take my shoes off nor change my clothes. Given the fact I haven't ate at all the whole day, I still rushed myself to get my computer on, wondering if she's angry cause I was late. Even though I never state it and fortunately she didn't mind at all , I felt terrible for being late.

It was 11 pm in Surabaya, Indonesia and it's 7 pm here, in Ankara, Turkey.

A little teases and jokes spark the conversation. It was a decent talk.There were tons of things I would like to tell and to share with her. But I can't... Why? Because I understand, she is no longer mine just like I'm no longer hers. That our conversation can only be limited up to the level of friendship. And at that very moment, that pain feeling comes in.

A feeling of loneliness, rejected, thrown away. A feeling that is a result of a past action. An indescribably feeling. A feeling that one must go through themselves to understand.

So I turned off the video in my skype and dropped a few tears, I kept doing it repeatedly every now and then so that she wouldn't have to know the feelings I felt inside.

Weakling you say? Yes, I am weak.

She spoke a few sentences and told me how was her day, and at some point in her sentences, I felt butterflies inside me. It's been over 6 month you see, never did that happen. Whoever I was dating with, be it an Indonesian or Turkish. None of them that exist after her actually matters. Or maybe just not now, not before I'm completely broken.

Still, never have I believe that one day I'd fall for my very own best friend.

I kept on saying the word I wanted to tell her slowly through the microphone so that she didn't have to hear it, so that she wouldn't have the burden to face the guilt. The guilt of letting me fall for her hard. So that she would just thought I was happy and was playing around.

I fell hard, really hard, too hard to look away, too hard to stand up and walk again.

Yes, I am weak.

I never wanted to bring the topic what happen in the past because I knew it'll ruin the moment. The moment I finally have the chance to enjoy a joyful conversation. Something that is pretty rare lately.

We talk about what are we up to lately, what are we busy with and what are the things we do in our everyday life. From that conversation there comes a moment of realization that she have grown so much, so different, better. She is having a concert on the 26th of October, she is giving singing courses to high school kids, becomes a debate trainer in her University and she got a better GPA last semester. In the other hand, I'm stagnate by my unwillingness to change. I'm stuck here doing the same shit everyday with the tinniest bit of change of being a Model United Nation trainer in Bilkent University.

"Maybe it's true that she's better without me"

"Change itself is a very dangerous word, scary in the sense that you wouldn't be the same anymore. Scary that maybe you'd miss your past and you know that everything has turned to tiny dust of memories."

I say good things to her hoping in return that she'll say something back and I guess she didn't get the idea and there I was, stood silently in-front of my laptop. Weak, yes I am. Weak confronted by her presence, her elusive beauty, and her way of humor. Weak to know that she's no longer mine.

She asked whether I would listen to her if she sings, of course I would. How could I ever say no to her. It was Raisa's song - "could it be". And when she sang, I was taken to a dreamland, a land of lullaby. Her smoothing voice calms my mind as if everything was never been clearer, it curves a smile to my face and implant a bit of peace inside me. You will never know the feeling unless you were there. Every single word she said, In this little heart, I wished that all of those lyrics were her actual feelings.

You see, she is like my first cup of coffee in the morning. Rich in feelings, the bitter memories moisten my life, the sweet memories tease me in wanting more and the aroma of her presence attracts all my attention.

But maybe this is just me, maybe it's another undelivered feelings. Or maybe, just maybe, things might work out again.

"But you only need the light when it's burning low 
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow 
Only know you love her when you let her go 
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low 
Only hate the road when you're missing home 
Only know you love her when you let her go"

Cause I can't face reality and I feel sorry for myself.
Weak? Yes, I am weak.