Açaí Bowls & Summer Nights
By: Karin Cho
Tags: Heartbreak, Relationships, Short Story, Love, Couples

Açaí Bowls & Summer Nights

The night I no longer enjoyed my favorite dessert.

Photo by jwlezon Unsplash

I stroll into the new bakery on my block late at night, craving my go-to dessert, a savory açaí bowl with extra coconut strips.

After ordering my açaí bowl at the counter, I manage to find the perfect empty seat to situate myself in the corner. I like corners — close to the walls; liberated from interaction. Face deep, munching on every savory bite of granola and coconut strips, I steal a perfectly timed glance at the double glass doors and catch your familiar face, casually stroll-on in.

Everything and everyone stops.

Suddenly, I’m not in the same cozy cafe anymore. The warmth of that bakery quickly turns cold; and what once was a corner seat between two adjoining walls swiftly transfigures back into a raggedy couch, dimly illuminated by the poor lighting we’d see each other on our computer screens. My heart drops and with a quick jerk backwards, I start rewinding back to the last time I saw you; back to a memory so ancient that I nearly overlooked the sentiment of wistfulness.

Here, in this moment, it doesn’t make even the slightest bit of difference how long it’d been since we last stood face-to-face, because, to me, your essence always just felt — timeless.

…the one that got away

…I murmur to myself. The air almost feels translucent and dreamlike, as I try to grasp at the conscious realization that you are really, really, here.

To be honest, I’d always felt your spirit, even after we separated, but even more so now. And as I observe you from my corner across the room, I can feel the once-thought long-lost sensation of burning chemistry, reilluminate, as our childhood selves reconnect — as one.

…can it be? Is it really you?

My gaze is frozen stuck at the entryway, still in blissful shock that from head to toe, you are here. My fingers tap nervously against the wooden table in a thumpy, uneven staccato, as I question all of life’s serendipity — trying with every effort to make the connection, that even after everything and all that’s happened…

…everything MUST happen for a reason.

I get up from my seat, braced against my own two feet, and feel the still hesitation between running to you and running away.

…this was all I ever wanted.

For years upon years, this moment, this reunion…this was all I had ever ached for. The amount of tears I shed, over the course of a lifetime, waiting, for this…it could fill an ocean.

I pause. Try to swallow the lump in my throat, and sit back down. Returning to my seat, I reminisce about the nights we can’t relive and dreams that we just couldn’t make happen.

A memory flickers back to me in slow motion.

Our hearts and eyes full of uncertainty in the twilight summer sky — your smile, our only source of warmth in the crisp night. You asked me about our future and I somehow find the words behind the anxious knot in my throat,

…I don’t know.

…I hesitated, behind the crushing fear that I’d one day lose you.

…Keep me.

…you remark — as if you had prepared that line for this very moment over a thousand lifetimes.

You break eye contact for just a split second, Once deemed safe, you dart back and lock stares, eyes on mine, in the most delicate moment — one that felt like an eternity you’d never want to leave.

Like clockwork, everyone else in the room begins to dissolve away, one by one, as if they were smoke to begin with — until the only two people present in this universe are you & me.

Your eyes, the puppy-like glow of innocence but trained always, with a sharp demeanor. Simply, unforgettable. I could recognize them an ocean away. They haven’t changed a bit.

You break your gaze and look away. I try to remember how to breathe but I don’t want to let go of the air of this very moment. Not again.

Do you still remember? Do you reminisce all the times we’d spend hours online fantasizing about the day we finally meet? The stupid moments that we’d promise each other the world, even when we had nothing to our names?

…or do you not recognize me at all?

It’s been years now, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the woman sitting before you feels like a stranger to the girl that you had once fallen in love with.

I pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

You’re real, it’s you.

You stroll towards me, and the room no longer scents like fruits and coffee anymore, it smells like fresh laundry infused with bits of lavender; your natural scent. I nearly collapse in my seat as I feel the pressure created by every step as you slowly make your way toward me.

It feels… It feels like it’s meant to be.

And before I have any time to rehearse any kind of speech in my head of what to say to a someone like you in a moment like this…

…suddenly, you’re before me, toe to toe, smiling, down at the girl who had been waiting, patiently, for you, all along.

I work my eyes up slowly, across every wrinkle of your shirt, every line of your body, until my own gaze meets yours. This is the first occasion when we’d be in the same room together since we were teens. Your mere presence has my hands shaking, uncontrollably, and knees weak and wobbling, as I fight every second to keep eye contact with you.

“Karin?” you softly ask…

Your angelic face lights up with joy as I feel the knots in my stomach grip and tighten — turning and turning as each second passes.

“Oh my god! What are you doing here?”

I exclaim as my entire body shoots up from my seat and darts to your warm embrace. A hug that felt more than just a hug, so much more. The closeness reminds me of all the intimacy we once entangled ourselves in, back when our teenage selves were intoxicated in young love.

Serotonin, Dopamine, and Oxytocin flood my mind as I hang onto you.

“What are the odds?!”

You ask, ending the sincere hug and sitting me down, back in my corner and wooden table. And as I push my seat toward yours, I surrender all of my years of patience and simply confess,

“I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life.”

You slowly look down at the table as the words leave my mouth, and then you recast your focused expression to the doorway,

She appears.

She looks like me. She notices you and immediately, you stand up, smile and greet her with a romantic hug I knew a thousand times before her.

“This is my girlfriend!”

You introduce us and in that very moment, my expectations and hopes sink all at once, drowning in thrashing, violent waters to a shallow grave. I can barely make eye contact with her as I watch you two love birds gently hold hands in front of me.

Holding hands… Your hands were the first hands I had ever held, romantically, back when we were kids. The flashbacks continue to play, but with a melancholic undertone, a sad soundtrack, this time around.

“I’m really happy for you guys!”

I proclaim, as my heart feels like it’s being torn, piece by piece, ripped apart from my body and soul, and fed to a pack of hungry wolves.

You both smile, lightly, and as she makes her way to the cashier to place her order, I quickly pack my belongings, and drag my feet toward the door. Before I go, I throw out my açaí bowl. The same granola now soggy, the coconut turned sour like every bowl I had before.

Once my favorite snack, a positive memory now tasting sour and bitter, simply not the same anymore.

But before I leave, I look back at you in one final effort. We share one last silent moment of nothing but pure eye contact.

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Your eyes, the same eyes as years before. Those these windows have long since been shattered, we take a final breathe in this cherished moment, as we both silently communicate to one another in spirit,

“…until we meet again, old friend.”