There is nothing in the world I love more than coffee, I thought. The aroma that calls you from a million miles away. The bitterness it sends through your soul, filling you up; giving you the warmth that you so desperately crave. And the darkness… the blackness that reminds me all too much of my life. I didn’t know what I was doing there, but somehow it made sense. I skipped my first class that day. My first class ever. I didn’t know why…. If I had to think about it, I never knew why I did anything. All my life, I was guided and told what to do by others. I never realized where I was going; I walked a tight rope of others expectations thinking that if I ever took my eyes off what was ahead, I would fall. I never even looked out to see if there was another rope…. Maybe one who did not have such high expectations. I just hoped that my parents and friends knew best, and that I was heading in the right direction. I sat at one of those coffee shops, where they pretend that the black stuff that they sell you for three dollars a cup is really gourmet. I was sitting in an obscure seat, one of the chairs that they put in just in case (if it gets too crowded). The place was packed, as it normally is on a Tuesday morning. I sat judging everyone that came in. Who were the people? Were they happy? I would have looked outside but I couldn’t bare seeing the overly happy newlyweds who were blocking my view of the window and prattling on about how wonderful their day went yesterday and how marvelous today was going to be. For them, it was just another beautiful (rainy and dreary) Tuesday morning. They were too wrapped up with themselves to even notice anything or anyone else. I sat there long enough to wait until everybody left and until the rain dripped to an end. Even then, I didn’t feel like switching to a better seat. I wondered what I was going to tell my professor the next day, why I didn’t come to...
