Longing for friendship, in a busy coffee shop.

I am sitting at the table immediately next to the entrance desk of the Cafe.
I am waiting for a friend to arrive to meet me for a symbolic evening tea.

I must have arrived earlier than usual or so I think because the wait has now stretched to about twenty minutes and I was getting quietky self conscious.

The place around was cracking under the noise of hurried eating, using steel cutlery, clanking of beer bottles as people share a drink to their happiness, combined with the laughter and loud animated voices from the conversations, of all those over packed tables.
No table was waiting to be seized. Women dressed gorgeously were moving in and out of the restroom and there was a gush of people exiting the restaurant temporarily to light a cigarette. The graceful waiter would walk with his shoulder etched diagonally to make space for them, just in case they smashed into the large brown plate filled with pizzas, burgers, sandwiches and hot meals.

The attender gave me a knowing smile, every time, he passed me. I had a feeling I was the lonely one. I knew I had to do something to look occupied. I must not look like I am devoid of friends, rauccous stories and the vibrance associated with the upscale social life, as we see around us, into which we also are subconsciously working so hard to blend, with the associated precautions.

My day dreaming was cut short with a shrieking laughter of a woman in her late twenty’s who broke into a fit of back and forth sway of her body. She was delirious and was hoping to complete what she had to say through the fit of laughter that had gripped her.

It was nice. I enjoyed looking at her. I smiled too, beneath my lips. It relaxed me. I instantly shifted back on my chair, pushed myself to feel comfortable against the wooden hand bar and crossed my legs comfortably. My shoulders were relaxed this time, the stomach falling on me with all its natural weight and each round of breathing, clearly distinguishable from the one before.
Of course, my lovely friend walked in and we had a lovely time together. We smiled often, spoke about things that charmed me and her. We engaged in depth about how important it was, that we met.
Time passed and I felt an ache when I had to finally get up to leave.
It would mean that the good times would be coming to an end soon. That, from this beautifully orchestrated mood, I would soon be transported back into quietness, melancholy and the routine existence, which I so badly try and run away from.

I run to a crowded place like this and then again ruminate at the thought of being snatched away from magical moods. This is a never ending cycle. A cycle which comes and goes. Over which, we have no control but to endure and pass.
At such times, friends make life colorful. They are a desirable escape.
While my favourite moment was whem my stomach took its comfortable place, amidst heightened social anxiety and self enforced uneasiness, my friend was the icing on the cake.

I loved it.
I really enjoy my friends.

You end up not talking to anyone about anything for fear of being hurt. You cover your inner feelings with a smile and a joke. No one likes your truth.
But the truth is right there in that coffee shop. A perpetual longing for company and the struggle to feel comfortable in one’s skin.

(Thank-you for reading this article!)

My passion is writing. Everything I write about is geared toward things that I deeply cares about—experiences, thoughts, drama, and emotions. A full-time mom to two handsome boys—11 and 4—I built a career around insurance underwriting and later, teaching of English literature and language in high school, before vanishing into full-time mommy responsibilities. I believe that life is not meant to be serious all of the time, and that we should have fun as much as we can. Besides writing, I enjoy watching spy network series and living it up by creating laugh memes with my two lovely young boys!

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