In mid-2019, I decided to instead of working from home; I moved my working place to the nearest cafe; I tried a few ones, but what worked for me was Starbucks.
I religiously began to go there every day, It became a daily routine of mine and I took one or two days off per week; I felt more productive there and found it easy-to-read books away from the distraction that might occur at home.
Sometimes after I finish work, I set there along with my cup of tea contemplating.
Being on my own, with a constant noise on the background or with earphones on a table that is away from the crowd makes me feel almost separated from the surroundings, it is like sitting in a parallel place; it happened often that I kept reminding myself
“Hey, you are outside inside a cafe surrounded by people,” I kept reminding myself.
This contemplation often followed by tears, hidden tears.
First Tears
Lately, I have enjoyed being on my own, but the joy of lonesome can become inconstant or not as long-lasting as I thought.
I saw millions of couples entering the doorstep of the coffee shop, in addition to a friend’s gathering. I tended to look at myself and my state, a girl sitting there on her own, whilst I enjoy it, but I find myself longing for something else, longing for a soul to keep my company.
It was when my first tears were shed. Despite enjoying my solitude, I find myself searching for the human nature in me that somehow loves socializing.
The next day, I would thank god that I am on my own, too much energy for me to bear being around people. I shed the same tears on the person I have become, the person whom it would be very tough for her to fit into other people’s lives, the person whom solitude became a part of who she is, and the change to something else would be brutal because I will be trying to strip myself from who I am or from what I have become.
Second Tears
The sneak peeks and the innocent long looks he constantly used to give me whenever he sees me were extraordinary. They were full of seriousness, curiosity, and closeness.
These looks were what drew my attention to him in the first place, they were difficult to be neglected and I found myself sharing the same vibes with him, giving the same, innocent looks that I couldn’t control nor I wanted to move my eyes off him.
It made my heart dance in joy, but disappointment followed.
I wanted to see him again; I went every day in the same exact time, but with no use.
Desperate?
One day, he appeared, and since I was drowned in my laptop, I could not notice him, but when I raised my head away from the laptop screen I found him, looking at me, the same exact looks. The type of looks that have a story to tell.
I decided to put my mind on silence and not to distract the moment I am having now with thoughts like ‘why he is looking at me, I am not beautiful nor attractive, nor worthy, maybe I am imagining things that do not exist, maybe I look familiar…’
No time for these thoughts now! I am feeling the vibes and I want to keep it pure.
He kept looking and I kept looking. We or I Could not stop.
Our eyes were saying something that I could not determine what it was actually, but there was some kind of energy coming and going that electrified the atmosphere between us.
Eventually, this all ended, as I have never seen him again.
I sit at Starbucks one day and shed the second tears on the thoughts of him and his close to jet-black eyes that spoke thousands of words to me through only one glance.
Third Tears
Shock, Trauma, you name it.
The person whom I thought if he even was the last living human on earth to harm me, he still would not do it.
I know it is my fault to think that way.
Before I left home in the morning, I stared at my phone screen looking at the words he just texted in disbelief.
‘{his name}, goodbye!’ I typed and sent it.
Then I threw away my phone, determined to go on with my day normally. My daily morning routine was done, clothes clean ready to be worn, everything I need was on my backpack. Ready to leave the house.
I have been pretending since I threw the phone away until I reached Starbucks and sat on the table that everything was completely fine, but then I realized it was actually not, I could not help but burst into tears in early December morning in Starbucks.
Fourth Tears
‘You are not merciful, and an animal abuser.’ He texted!
Me? Assmaa is an animal abuser…
The homeless cat with a broken hand that my brother found by the end of October, he brought it home and we decided to take care of her until she gets better. My brother and I went regularly to her vet appointments, we made sure she takes her medications, did an x-ray on her hand. Weeks after, she recovered and walked on it again with minimal pain.
Because we already have 4 cats, we decided to protect her at night because they were not welcoming her, so we made her a bed with her toys and sheets inside her box and let her sleep inside for overnight to make sure she is safe.
My mother, brother, and I settled on the idea to find someone to adopt her. Someone did contact me and asked me to adopt her, the process went smoothly and although I know I will miss her but I had to do what is best for all of us. I asked him if it is okay to ask about her from time to time, and he agreed and told me you can text at any time.
After a few days, I started to sense the disrespectful tone in his texts but I did not pay much attention, until one day after his vet cousin has filled his head with information about the state of the cat, he texted me blaming me for not taking good care of her, her broken hand and the fact that I let her sleep overnight inside her box.
“Next time you save a cat made sure you are not abusing it,” He texted!
After all this, after the effort we have made the tears we have shed, and this is what I heard in the end.
I was sitting at Starbucks, reading his texts in confusion. Me? An animal abuser? I shed the fourth tears, heavy tears… I could not help myself being accused of such a crime, a person who lived most of her life and still taking care of animals, is now an abuser!!
Impossible!!
Fifth Tears
They are whenever I read words from a book or listen to song’s lyrics combined with guitar riffs that touch me in a way, step on an open wound, or speak on my behalf without me even bothering to explain.
The words that teach me, tell me how to live a better life, or that make it easy to learn from other people’s lives and experiences without even meeting or talking to them directly.
The ones which can change the way I see life and look all the way around with new beliefs and perspectives.
The ones who open my eyes to the truth I thought were hidden or non-existent.
The ones who show me what true love is and what is not.
The words that resonated with my soul and my whole being, and I can’t help but find my tears go hand in hand, as a way for my soul to express.
Sixth Tears
I was feeling so off that day, I could not bear hearing any bad news, but then.
“They are going to remove the garden in front of our house.” Mom said on the phone.
While I was working at Starbucks one day, mom called and informed me of the plans of the sick, twisted mind government.
My stress level went from one thousand to I don’t-know-where in a matter of a second.
“I can’t bear hearing this mom, please leave me for now.” I said.
As soon as I hung up the phone with her, I found tears streaming down on my face. It hurts when you want to stop something from happening but can’t and you just have to accept whatever happens afterward.
I just can’t believe it. Literally, all the trees in this garden were there before I was even born. How could anyone commit such a crime towards nature?
Yeah, Politicians. They only know the rules they made up for themselves.
My heart also goes to all the victims of the Australian fires. Animals and people are dying EVERY SECOND and politicians couldn’t care less. it is a world crisis that all countries have to work together to stop it and to end any further damages, but it seems that people who are in control only care about authority and money. How shameful, and a disgrace to humanity!!
In Conclusion
I mainly go to Starbucks to work, but sometimes tears happen uncontrollably now and then, I always make sure they are hidden, that if you were sitting in the table next to me, you would never notice.
Because I am not that type of person who doesn’t mind crying among strangers or in public places, it is not because I am ashamed of showing them but because the last thing I want is being asked “are you ok?” or for anyone to feel sorry for me or see my tears and misjudge my situation.
I take this article as a way to express my tears through my words and to share my feelings for the sake of inner relief!
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