Heart

The winter air blew bone chilling wind and snow into my face as I made my way down the street to the coffee shop. Behind my red trench coat there was a notebook with a blue pen stuck in the spiral. I always did my best work in the coffee shop. When I left the dorm it wasn’t snowing, just a bit windy, but by the time it started I was almost there so I decided to keep walking.

The coffee shop was small with tiny tables that were meant to fit two people, but at most could fit three. I had gone to the same coffee shop for nearly three years. Everyone in the shop greeted me by name, and even knew what I wanted before I asked. I was a back table kind of person; I always went to the table that was furthest from the door, and furthest from people.

I entered the coffee shop with a jingle and a sigh of relief to be inside of a building. I brushed off a couple of pieces of snow, and wiped my feet on the welcome rug. Brenda, the coffee shop manager stared at me and looked toward a seat to say she knew what coffee I wanted. I nodded my head and went toward my usual seat.

In a matter of minutes I was enthralled in my work, the pen was flying across the paper, and coffee delivered twenty minutes ago was getting cold. A tap on the shoulder from Brenda reminded me of the coffee before me. I cleared my throat and said thanks to Brenda and drank some of the semi-warm coffee. As I looked up to the front of the shop my eyes met the hair of one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen.

He was sitting at a table with another person, presumably a friend, and by the looks of his hand gestures he was making a strong point. His dark hair thrashed constantly into his face, and he moved it back into place behind his ears. When his friend countered back he looked thoughtful, as if he was actually trying to listen to what the friend had to say.

I was watching the silent argument for a long while, behind my hair I stared at him, to afraid to say anything, and he never looked back to even make me imagine he’d noticed me. I looked down at my notebook and turned to a fresh page, and began to doodle a picture of him the best I could. No picture, I thought, could ever be the same as the person I saw today. I wanted to remember all of him, but when I looked up he was already at the counter paying for his drinks. His friend was still sitting down though. My mouth slid slightly ajar as I heard the jingle of the door, and then I popped my head back into the moment. I saw him leave, without a picture, or a wave, or even the courage to say hello to the guy before he left. Why couldn’t I just go up to him?

I silently wrote as the door bell jingled and the people around me drank their coffees and left. The day wasn’t all that productive, mostly because the only thing on my mind was the mystery boy. A boy of whom I knew nothing about, but a boy I somehow wanted to know everything about. The mystery friend left a few minutes after him, and I wondered what they were talking about. His image unknowing to me became the picture I had for my next story. This unfortunately was the reason that the day was so unproductive.

Soon, I had to go back to my dorm and go back to University life. I had a class in about forty minutes, the walk wasn’t long, but I always seemed to get distracted on the walk to class. I paid for my coffee and said goodbye to Brenda, and I faced the cold wind once again. It had stopped snowing, and the town had the snow plows and salt trucks running full blast while I was inside, thankfully for me. It made the walk back to campus much safer for me. I wasn’t clumsy, but every once and a while, I found myself on the ground.

The best part of university was the freedom. I could go to get coffee whenever I wanted, eat whatever I wanted, take the classes I wanted, and take breaks when I wanted. Although I didn’t grow up far from where I went to college, my parents moved further away after I headed to college for my Dads work, so what I thought would be a bad case of me underneath my parents rule, turned out to be a great case of luck.

I loved all of my classes. I was in my in my second semester of my freshman year…so the classes were pretty basic, but interesting nonetheless. I had a few friends on campus, mostly college classmates and my roommate, but that was enough to satisfy my need for social activity. I wasn’t very involved on campus, except for a writing group that met on Thursdays to share writing. I’ve shared about twice, and went to the meetings about ten times. I hardly like to share the things I write, unless the person I’m sharing with is really special to me…or I have to. In that case I had to, the writing club made members share at least two pieces of work on two separate occasions to join. I haven’t spoken since. I just like to go with the flow and listen to what they say. It inspires the way I write and think. I could probably inspire someone with a piece or two of mine, but I’m so shy it took me forever to actually go to a meeting, let alone inspire someone.

My first class today was a writing class. I loved my professor. He always had fresh exciting exercises for us to try; they didn’t hold you back though. The instructions he gave were like a basic skeletal outline. It was your job to fill in all the organs, pull on all the flesh, paint the skin any color you want, and make the story talk. Sometimes it was introspective, and sometimes you didn’t have to dig so deep. I guess it depended on how he felt when he woke up in the morning. Either way it goes, I was enjoying the class.

“What is love?” My writing professor said to the class, “What does love look like? What does it taste like, is it sweet…sour? Does it have a name? Where does it live? Does it feel emotions, if so what kind of emotions? Does it have a pet? What house does it live in? Now you don’t have to answer all those questions…those were just some jumping off points. But by the end of the class period, maybe you can look me in the eye and say what love is?”

I’ve never really been in love, so I can’t tell you exactly what love is, but I can tell you what I’d hope it would be. I think love looks like everything you ever thought you might like, and some things you thought you’d never like. Love is a sweet grape after tasting tons of sour ones. Love lives in my soul, and it lives in the only different house on the block of cookie cutter houses. It feels all sorts of emotions from hate, to greed, to sadness, but the most frequent emotion is happiness. Love is great at helping anyone get through all the emotions they have, but at the same time can feel all those emotions too. It won’t give up as soon as it is faced with a challenge, and it sticks by the other when that person meets a challenge. Love is a great person, it has character traits like great listener, great motivator, and is never jealous. Love sometimes has its faults though, and doesn’t always live up to those expectations because sometimes love has its days, which is to be expected. Love may not always come through so shiny, but love is always there when it matters most.

“Kathleen, wait up! Where are you going right now?” Audrey, one of my best friends yelled out to me.

“Probably just to my dorm. I got lots of studying to do; I kind of spent my whole morning at the coffee shop. I have an hour or so before my next class, and I want to feel like I was somewhat productive today,” I replied.

“Oh, well I can come with, and we could walk to next class together,” Audrey said.

“Sure, if you want to,” I said.

The walk back to my room took about eight minutes. I lived in the freshman dorms which are always pretty close to everything. I swiped my key when I got to my dorm room and I turned the light switch.

“Home Sweet Dorm,” I said, letting Audrey in and shutting the door behind me.

“Where’s your roommate?” Audrey asked.

“Ugh, I don’t know…she tends to float around all day,” I say.

Audrey scratched her head, “Funny, I can’t get my roommate out of our room.”

I laughed a bit, and then I opened the door to my room, “Come on, let’s study…or something…”

“So, why’d you spend all day at the coffee shop?” Audrey asked.

“No real reason,” I said, “I kind of had a bum day, after I saw this guy there, I couldn’t focus that well…messed up my whole morning. I was doing so well until he came into the shop.”

“Ah, so we are blaming it on the guy now?” Audrey said.

“I’m not blaming it on him; I’m just stating the facts. Before I saw him I was working well, then I saw him and bam I was no longer working well…” I returned.

“Whatever,” Audrey said in a faked bored tone.

“Crap,” I said looking at the clock, “We have to get up and go Auddie.”

“Okay,” Audrey said getting up from her seat.

I checked my window quickly and then we got our books on the way out the door. I locked the door behind us and we jetted down the steps into the fresh air.

“So, did you finish the reading assignment for History?” Audrey asked.

“I got most of it finished, the last part I tried to read, but I was so tired I just gave up and skimmed it, I highlighted a couple of phrases so if we get that far in the discussion I can look like I learned something. But I was so tired last night I couldn’t fully comprehend another sentence,” I rambled.

“At least you got that far. I was so busy with the math class I couldn’t focus on History,” Audrey sighed.

“The math wasn’t so hard for me, but I went straight to his next office hours after that class. He explained it better in there. You have to come with me one day,” I said.

“I’m thinking about it. I have a C in there I just know it,” Audrey returned.

“Well, he has an office hours tomorrow. You should join me, I have some questions about yesterday’s homework anyway,” I suggested.

“Okay, call me when you get ready to go tomorrow,” Audrey said.

“Okay, ah, History,” I sighed as we walked through the doors of our History class.

We took seats towards the front of the room and I opened my laptop to my note taking program. I opened my book to the pages listed on the board, and read over some of the things that I had highlighted in the text. The teacher leaned on the desk in the front of the room; she was talking to a student who wanted to know more about a history date we had to remember for an exam. I listened to the conversation a bit, and typed out a few words that seemed to be important from the conversation and I looked around the room. The class was beginning to file in and the seats filled up around me.

“Welcome back to history class,” the professor proclaimed.

After class Audrey and I walked back to my dorm and dropped off all the things from class. We said hello to my roommate Bella, then we left for the food court.

“Oh my, I’m so hungry,” Audrey said, “Gah, I should eat more often.”

“I’m the same way,” I said, “it’s kind of odd, I’m like next door to the food court, but I still find myself too lazy to eat 24/7.”

“Well, we are here now, and the buffets full. I have my student id, the cafeteria won’t know what hit it,” Audrey said, getting a plate.

“Exactly,” I said piling pasta onto my plate.

From the corner of my eye I saw dark hair, and waving hands. I let my gaze fall to the side just a bit, and I could have sworn I saw him. You know it’s kind of funny. I’ve been on campus for a while, and you think I would have noticed him before now.

“Look at that lunatic over there, the one with the waving hands,” Audrey giggled.

“Yeah, isn’t he beautiful,” I sighed.