Silence

I’m not the kind of girl that when you see while walking down the street, you say, man, I wish I was her. I’m not the girl you wished you could look like. I’m most definitely not the girl that you wish you could have. I’m the girl that you pass by and wonder if I’m okay. I assure you, I’m perfectly fine. I just want to be alone. I like the silence. I like to observe.

I could go on and on about the conclusions you may or may not have about me. Or your judgments. But, I won’t because it’s a waste of time. I’m sure you’re creative enough to think of one on your own. I don’t expect you to get to know me before you come to your conclusion. No one else has tried. Except for him.

Ominous, I know. He was a very mysterious person. And very persistent. Most women might describe him as handsome and sweet. But, I’m not most women. I found him annoying. I don’t judge people on their looks. Hell, I try not to judge people at all. But, it is human nature, after all, and as he continued to bother me, I realized just how annoying he was.

You came to me for a story, and I could tell you a few. But, I won’t. None of the stories I have to tell are possibly long enough or interesting enough to capture your attention. Except when I met him. But, to tell that story, I’d have to start from the beginning. Don’t worry; it won’t take long for my recap, if you will.

Silence is golden. I heard that all throughout my childhood and even through my teenage years. I remember the first time I heard the phrase. I was in kindergarten. When my teacher wanted us to be quiet, she would remind us that silence is golden. As we all got older and more rebellious, my classmates would dismiss the rule. I, however, was a firm believer that silence, was in fact, golden. It was a rarity for a teenager in my class to not have anything to talk about. I was always the exception. And people hated me for it. I was the freak. The emo kid. Whatever I was, I was different, and no one liked that.

My parents accepted me for the person I was. I knew I was a relief after my older brother and sister, twins, went off to college. They were loud and obnoxious. I was quiet and kept to myself. My younger brother was the baby, so he could do no wrong. I had no objections to anything. I never got into trouble. My parents trusted me enough to know that I didn’t do anything worth punishing. I don’t regret one thing from my childhood. No, I don’t think I had the perfect childhood, but I most certainly had a good one. I knew how to act.

Now, I know you must think I’m some kind of mime or something that doesn’t talk at all, but that isn’t true. I talk. I just prefer the silence. I feel stupid for going on and on about how I love silence. But, I can’t help myself.

I’m sure you’re wondering where he comes in. I met him a year ago. I had just turned twenty-one, and was sitting in my favorite coffee shop, sipping on my chai tea and watching the passerby through the window. The whole coffee shop was full. I had a table for two to myself, right next to the large front window. I watched as a man, with a scarf wrapped around his neck and fingerless gloves covering most of his hands, walked in and went straight to the counter to order. I turned away from the man to once again stare out of the window. More and more people were coming in and out of the shop. It was unusually busy for a Sunday morning.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” I heard from beside me. At first, I thought nothing of it. No one ever talks to me. I ignored it, thinking the person might have been talking to someone else.

“Excuse me.” I felt a tap on my shoulder that startled me. “Sorry. Is this seat taken?” he pointed at the chair across the table from my own. I looked up at the man that I had watched walk in and order. I shook my head no, thinking he would take the chair elsewhere. To my surprise, he only sat down across from me.

“I’ve never seen this place so packed. Have you been here before?” he took a small drink from the cup he was holding. I looked at him, wondering why he was talking to me. He put the cup down and awaited my answer. I only nodded my head.

“You don’t talk much. Or you’re shy. I can’t really tell.” He noticed my lack of conversation. He smiled at me before bringing the cup back to his lips. He followed my gaze, which had returned to the window. “I love New York in the autumn.” I nodded my head in agreement.

“It’s my favorite season.” I finally said. He looked up at me.

“Ah, she finally speaks. So now that you have, I guess I’ll tell you my name.” he smiled. I didn’t want to know his name. After I finished my tea, he would just go back to being another one of the people that I had seen today.

“I’m Grayson.” He told me. “What about you?”

I debated on whether or not to give Grayson my name or not. “Adia.”

“That’s a strange name.”

“As is yours.” I shot back. He was already bothering me.