Tag Archives: coffee

Walk through the darkness of everyday life after the loss of a friend. Thinking and feeling what was to have a friend, what was to share a cup of coffee, what was to live everyday life with a little more light than I have now.

To learn and to relearn to move, to breathe, to talk, to work . . . To function without my friend. A friend, a good and true friend, such a rare thing to find, such an oddity an anomaly – at least in my life.-

A friend lost forevermore. No god, no heaven, no afterlife for me and therefore forever without my friend I will be.

Anthony David

It seems I am at the end and the beginning, of what it is gone and what it is to come. 

For what may come, I can only dream it, wish it and either, wait for it or run to it. But it would be to run into nothingness.

My dreams come true, if only . . . A memory only or wishful thinking. Unrealistic, exactly, I know reality too well.

To be loved why does it seem that we are not to love ourselves too? To be loved why does it seem that we are to sacrifice our heart and soul?

To keep them, to keep myself then it is for me the endless death of ongoing existence. Or it could only be that I feel sad today and tomorrow he will be gone from my thoughts.

Gone forever, until I see him again or hear him, or maybe until I see a cat or hear the rain. I’ll  forget him until my next Sunday morning cup of coffee.

Or maybe tomorrow I’ll remember when I was hurt, or when I cried, or when I didn’t understand and this thoughts will push him out of my mind.

At the end and at the beginning as it is suppose to be. To make room for what it is to come some things need to be gone. 

Gone, but not gone, never or maybe always.

Weird Things

Today a very weird thing happened as I rode the bus home from work today. When I was in college I used to go to this Spanish cafeteria called Las Torres, I used to go there with my best friend and a couple of other friends when I was in college. It seems so long ago and yet just yesterday, and it seems . . . so far, far away . . . I just remember it, all of a sudden.

I remember the wooden table and chairs, the dim lighting, the . . . was it an aquarium? It was the place to be, the place to see, the place, our place. I remembered it all of a sudden, and then I messaged my best friend. From long time ago, for far away across the sea, from an age were we ran barefoot on the sand.

And by a chance she, a million miles away in space and time, was just so driving in front of Las Torres.


He is everywhere I look, in everything I hear, in everything I sense. He just is . . . everywhere. In my memories, the good and the bad, in new movies that we would have gone to see together, in hikes we never took, in restaurants we never tried. He is in the clothes I wear, he is there in the mornings , he is there in the afternoons after work, he is there.

He is there in the morning, when I wake up and the coffee is not made, and there is no cup waiting for me. He is there, behind me in the mirror while I dry my hair, fighting me for space that we don’t share anymore, he is there when I’m cold because I’m cold and he is there when I’m hot because he was hot. He is there, everywhere.
I see him dancing around the house, I see him sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth, I see him . . .  I see him just now where he is not.

He is not there, and yet I see him.

Things that I can do nomore

  1. I cannot watch Inspector Lewis or Midsummer Murders anymore
  2. I can’t go into a  T.J. Maxx without tearing up
  3. Jurassic Park has been completely spoiled for me
  4. There is no hiking for me, I may not set foot on a national forest or state park anymore
  5. Christmas Day has been utterly destroyed
  6. Now no one can run his hands through my hair, it would send shivers down my spine
  7. I will not play Go anymore
  8. Lincoln and Child, I will not read them anymore
  9. Pancakes for breakfast make me throw up
  10. I can’t bear anybody making coffee for me
  11. I  feel the need to destroy all malachite in the world

These are some of the things you have stolen from me. These are some of the thing you have left me without.
You have left me without the solace of company for my sleepless nights, my nightmares are now all alone. The stressed heartbeat in my chest goes now unattended, my secret smile remains a secret forever more. I cook not, who would eat my meals anyways? There are no more Sundays at the swimming pool, or coffee and cake at the library, no walking hand in hand, no cutting off your hair and no singing The Beatles in the car, no road trips, no take out on Fridays.

Nowhere to lay my head.