The sun felt too hot against my cheeks and the crunch of the leaves too loud as I dragged my feet towards the small coffee shop at the corner, all too aware of the sinking feeling in my stomach with every step I took. The passing people on the sidewalk didn’t even notice my hands violently shaking as I reached out for the brass doorknob, bracing myself for the flood of memories that were sure to come in full force. The small bell chimed as I pulled open the door, the radios soft music and the smell of fresh pastries engulfing me instantly. I almost bolted then and there, but I knew that this was something I had to do. I had spent too many days avoiding looking through even a window of this place, but it had been long enough since the accident. It was just coffee. Forcing my feet to take each step towards the counter, my eyes never leave the ground as I say “just a coffee”. I slouch into one of the nearby chairs, letting my eyes gaze forlornly around the place that had been the beginning of everything. What would it have been like, to never have come here on that fateful day? To have simply chosen another coffee shop, left five minutes earlier, done something that would have kept me from ever getting in this situation. When he slipped on that patch of ice, the one that spun his car out of control, my life out of control, it would just be another tragic news story to me. I would hear about it, dwell on how sad it is for a minute, and then proceed with my life. I wouldn’t lay in my bed every night, wide eyed, the sound of ambulance sirens’ ringing in my ears, the news story on the TV replaying in my mind like an annoying song you can’t get out of your head. Stepping into this coffee shop wouldn’t evoke so many clear images of you, launching me into a spiral of memories.

I remember flurries of white drifting past frosted windows, landing softly on the coats of those bustling down the street laden with bags of Christmas presents, their breath creating clouds around their mouths. I curled further into my chair, perfectly content staying warm in the heated coffee shop, its Christmas lights casting a soft glow over everything. The air smelled of mint candy canes and all you could hear was joyful laughter between friends and Christmas music drifting from the radio.  It was the essence of the Christmas season all around me, in all its lighthearted glory, and I observed the festive scene from my table in the corner, clutching a mug of hot cocoa in one hand and my book in the other. That is when you came in. The brass bell above the door jingled, alerting me to your presence. I looked up for a brief moment, instantly becoming transfixed. Your face was nearly as white as the snow outside, cheeks perfectly pink, flushed from the cold. Dark curls fell across your forehead, and your eyes darted around the shop, as though being here was the most exciting thing in the world and you couldn’t wait to get your coffee. I couldn’t help but notice that they were the same color as the hot cocoa in my hand. Your tall, thin frame wrapped in a worn out black winter jacket, snowflakes still visible all over it. You strode towards the counter, your shoulders held high and an effortlessly charming smile on your lips. Your looks alone drew me in, leading me to gawk at you for a few seconds too long. I shook my head, breaking my gaze. No need to make a fool of myself. I went on reading, half understanding for the words, for a few more minutes until a cough above caused me to look up. You were there, looking at my book.

“That’s a good choice. Very well written,” you said, tilting your chin at it.
Slightly taken aback by this sudden approach, I nodded back, saying slowly, “Yeah, it’s pretty good. I’m enjoying it.”
“Would you mind if I sat down?”
“No.”
You pulled out the chair and settled into it as though we were old friends reuniting. Extending your hand, you said, “I never introduced myself. I’m Tyler.”
And from that point on, it was a slippery slope.

We continued to meet in that coffee shop, talk about everything from books to movies to the weather. It didn’t ever matter what we discussed, because everything you said was filled with such a passion, one not seen in most people. You could ramble on for hours if I let you, your voice picking up pace with every sentence, hands gesticulating as though trying to illustrate every word you spoke. Your hands were always moving, either clicking a pen or gesturing to the air around you, like you had so much inside of you that you just couldn’t contain it. Your eyes shined with the glow of the streetlamps outside, your laugh filling every crevice of the room you were in, filling every crevice of my being. I remember the feeling I had when I was around you then, how I had a gut feeling that this was important, you were important. If only I had known.

Fast forward a month and we weren’t spending all our time together in that run down shop, we were walking down the sidewalk holding hands and going to my house to watch all those movies we had talked about, going to our favorite restaurants to have meals that didn’t consist of just coffee and a muffin. I don’t know when it was that I realized I was hopelessly in love with you, just knew that I was. I had fallen for the way you loved life, let it fill every part of you, how you seemed to know everything about anything. How you knew the ins and outs of the universe and people, acting like you knew exactly where you were from and knew exactly where you were going, ready to embrace every second of the journey. Your mind was an intricate puzzle that I simply had to solve, complex and always thinking, unlike any other person I had known. I suppose to someone that never took risks, never strayed from the path I knew, you were intriguing to me, the way you were so open to experience everything life had to offer you. I hadn’t known how lost I really was until you arrived. It was as though you had handed me a map, a map that showed me all the places I could go and all the things I could experience if I simply opened my eyes.  For the first time in my life, I felt like I was actually living, not merely existing as I watched time by.

Yet in one earth shattering moment, time completely stopped. The first time I saw you cry was that day you got the phone call, the one saying your sister had just been killed in a car accident. Your eyes were red and watery, your hands trembling as you screamed about how life was too unfair. I watched you as the life drained out of you, how your passion disappeared, and the sparkle in your eyes left, leaving only dullness and dark circles. The funeral was the worst. You barely made it through your eulogy, your voice trembling the more you went on, choking on every syllable that left your mouth. Your hand felt so heavy and cold in mine as I held it during the burial, like a corpse. Your hollow eyes never left the casket, not even feeling my thumb sliding across the back of your hand, not even hearing any of the sympathy anyone gave you. Everyone, even your parents, stared at you as though you were the one that had died, like you were a ghost amongst them. I don’t blame them. You looked and acted like it, with your sunken, colorless cheeks and slow movements. You were a dead man walking, a shell of someone I once knew so well. After the funeral, you didn’t leave your house for weeks, you didn’t have any appetite. I watched you from the sidelines as you began to merely exist. I tried to call out to you and help you, but you had isolated yourself from the world and my words just went through you. Every day was a battle for you, but you had so many bullet wounds and you were bleeding out.

One night, you decided to leave the house. You called me, told me you were going for a drive to clear your head. I told you to be careful, and you hung up without saying goodbye. You probably went to your car, eyes already coated with tears, sped out of your driveway and out onto the road, thinking the faster you drove the faster you would escape the pain, the pain that haunted you every day. A patch of ice must have caught you off guard, and in one blinding flash of pain, one uncontrollable moment, your pain ended. I remember getting the phone call saying that you had been in an accident. You had died instantly, no chance of survival. Your car was so destroyed and mangled in that ditch when I showed up, I can’t even imagine what your body looked like. The paramedics told me you were unrecognizable. Amidst all the police officers and paramedics, I stood there and sobbed beneath the stars and cursed at the night sky, the cold doing nothing to numb the aching inside of me. You were freed from the nightmare you had been living, but you had started mine. I cried and I yelled that life was just too unfair. The life drained out of me, I had no sparkle in my eyes, only dullness and dark circles. The funeral was the worst, I barely made it through my eulogy. I didn’t leave my apartment, and I didn’t eat. I began simply existing. Every day I fought the battle that you had once fought, but I was bleeding out.

Today, months later, I decided to leave the house. I decided to come here, to the run down coffee shop that started it all. The beginning to everything.  I don’t know what compelled me to, it was just a gut feeling that told me it was time to face the fear that this coffee shop embodied. So now I’m here, staring around the place I hadn’t been to since that fateful night. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. The memories aren’t threatening to suffocate me, I haven’t run out crying. The smell of familiar coffee hasn’t made me want to throw up. The empty seat across from me doesn’t seem as menacing as I thought it would. I can almost see you there, you with a half smirk that screams “I told you so”. In that moment, I know I made the right decision in coming here. I know that eventually the universe will be right again. I’ll be right again. 

“Here’s your coffee.” I look up, surprised to see a boy about my age, holding out a mug to me. “It’s nice to see a familiar face back here again.”
Color rises to my cheeks, my mouth being forced into a small smile. “It’s nice to be back.”
Two small dimples form in his cheeks as he smiles back. “Enjoy your coffee. I’ll see you around.”
“Definitely.”

My eyes follow him as he walks back to the counter, the smile still on my face. I remember how you found me once, found me sitting alone in this very coffee shop, and you showed me what life could offer if I simply opened my eyes. Frankly, it would be an injustice to you to close my eyes again. It would be an injustice to you to keep existing. I gaze at the seat across from me, seeing you, with a satisfied smile on your face, slowly disappear until all that is left is an empty wooden chair. I stand up, tucking my hair behind my ear and make my way towards the counter.

“Hey.” The boy turns around, his eyes wide and questioning. Extending my hand, I say, “I never introduced myself. I’m Emma.”