benches.

i'm a sucker for good conversation. i really am. so much so that i often find myself getting into bed at 5am after a few glasses of wine and more words than i can account for.

i was bored yesterday and before i knew it i was reliving every part of my daytrip to sitges. i re-sampled the cava, re-saw all the artwork, re-felt the sand in my toes and re-explored every part of the charming town. and it was uplifting and intoxicating and left me right back where i am now.


i found myself the other night sitting in a faux-warm starbucks across from a friend and drinking a latte. and there was an old man sitting at the counter. i observed him, his interactions, his conversations, for about an hour. and i found myself wildly jealous, somehow. he was a portrait of satisfaction. he sat there beside his wife, drinking his grande brewed coffee, reading the sunday paper and catching up with the employees. when he was done, he said goodbye and see you next week and the two of them left.

i realized that my plan for that evening was to drink something soothing, enjoy some good conversation, and laugh too loudly. instead i was concerned that i was at starbucks rather than supporting a local shop. i was letdown that the coffee in america could never compare to cafe con leche and that in general i wasn't greeted in spanish. or greeted at all. i was irritated that i saw three people from my high school. i was met with the weight of a well overdue but sufficiently overdone conversation spotted with drawn-out silences and unwelcome melancholy rather than the lighthearted inspirational one i was hoping for. i left saying goodbye to no one, walking beside no one, and couldn't shake the shattered image of the friend who had been sitting across from me, the ex-lover/boyfriend/person who used to make me whole.

i need to shake this. i'm going to the thrift store.