Wake up.
I keep going back to that day in late October of last year
where we sat in the little coffee shop
laughing at our horoscopes and talking about rain.
Your head resting heavy on your palms
with that painful melancholy look in your eyes…
You told me how you feel as though everyone is asleep.
Just going through the motions of life,
waking up occasionally to wonder about the meaning of it all…
You told me you were afraid,
of falling asleep one day in class, or on the bus
and waking up 30 years later
with enough regret to drown this entire valley.
And I told you not to be scared,
life is sweet and terrifying all at once.
And the best way to stay awake
is to never stay the same.
I told you about my painful optimism,
and how I learned to see the beauty in failure,
in giving up when your heart is somewhere else.
The rain fell softly against the coffee shop windows
and somehow everything was different,
we were awake.
There was the smell of rain
mixing with the aroma of fresh ground coffe beans
And the feel of Autumn, all grey skies and falling leaves.
And your hand in mine.
