Coffee Date | Winter 2018
If you and I had coffee...
We'd find the coziest cafe with a real wood-burning fireplace and plan to meet there. The sub-zero temperatures outside make it hard to leave our warm homes, but I don't want to miss a date with you. We'd arrive bundled in our scarves and gloves, order our lattes and then settle in next to the crackling centerpiece that never fails to draw people closer together, even in flu season.
If you and I had coffee...
I'd ask you how you've been and say that it seems like an eternity since we last met, but really it's only been a short month, one full of holiday joy. It's no secret that busyness makes time go by quicker and we say it all the time but we never actually stop to slow down. I'd ask what you did for New Year's Eve and tell you that I spent the evening nerding out on Star Wars, true to form, and on the phone with a good friend who was recently stationed six hundred miles away. We both agreed we'd rather have spent the evening together instead of talking through a device, but alas. C'est la vie.
If you and I had coffee...
I'd ask you if you set New Year's resolutions or goals, and if you did, what is one you'd like to see through the year of 2018. I'd follow this up by telling you that I believe we all set these goals with the expectation that we'll never actually follow through with them for the entire year, but usually there is one we wish we could. I'd tell you that mine was to cut out all processed food and refined sugar and that I'd survived the first week of the year. Yay me. I'd go on to say I've also vowed to stop using so many exclamation points in my writing because no one exclaims that much in real life. This is a work in progress.
If you and I had coffee...
I'd tell you that the new year put me in the mood for minimalism, even more so than usual, and that I'm cleaning out my closet and bookshelves and now I'm facing a task that is quite difficult for me - purging my digital photos to get rid of the evidence of a life I once had. I'd ask you, in the past, when you'd known it was time to let go of things you'd accumulated from former relationships. I've now been divorced for a year, separated for nearly three, and feel like no photograph is going to replace the memories I have, but that it's still difficult to cut the association between a physical thing and an emotional feeling.
If you and I had coffee...
I'd tell you that I'm so excited about the new issue of Holl & Lane Magazine that will be coming out soon. I wrote an article about surviving divorce that it will be featured in the Courage issue. I'd tell you how difficult it was for me to write about my marriage and divorce because until this fall, I'd never shared my feelings on the topic with anyone but a few very close friends. I'd tell you how scary it is to be vulnerable, but I did it because I hoped that I could be an encouragement to another woman who might be going through a similar time in her own life.
If you and I had coffee...
Before we stand to leave, I'd reach into my bag and pull out a little white pastry box with a festive red ribbon tied around it. Inside, would be a selection of homemade chocolate candies I always make for the holidays that you are always happy to provide constructive feedback on. You'd tuck them into your own bag and our conversation would wind down as the last drops of coffee were consumed. We'd bundle up once more and prepare to face the cold winter on the other side of the door. I'd give you a hug and promise to see you again soon. Until then, my friend...
