Whenever I go to Starbucks, they always get my name wrong. It has always been automatic for me "Kam, k-a-m" but up to now I'm still not quite certain if it was all because of the way I say it? Was it too soft and do I sound like eating my words all the time? Or do they hear the loud roaring of the blenders and just nod instead? A cafe mystery it is.
I am coming to think of what runs in their minds when they see me at first sight. Well if they could see the smile I wear every single time and if they look at the tip of my well groomed hair falling too heavily for them not to notice, they may think that I'm happy and my nerves and blood vessels are healthy and well. They're getting that right.
What they don't know is that behind the smile and the well groomed hair, the fancy and fashioned clothes, I am a girl of a thousand thoughts and an aching heart. We all have something that is most of the time overlooked by many because it is only noticed when one stares at your eyes and sees through your soul. At times, they never get it right.
As I walk down the basement of this cafe which I adore because of the roomy and comfy feel and not all cafes have spaces like this one, I found a table for three right beside the table where my dad is having a small meeting. Stuck with no internet because apparently you have to pay for it and I am one practical frappuccino drinker.
What they got right was my order, cream based vanilla frapp grande and banoffee pie- my all time favorites. What they will probably never get right is when I'd have to let them guess why I ordered such. I am not hungry or craving of any sort.
Around 2 months ago, I had my sixteenth birthday. A guy who was once filled with surprises gave me a box to remember. That happened in the evening, right when I thought he was done with his overwhelming presents. Inside the box was a cardboard with a "Happy Sweets 16th!" written on it. I gleamed around the four corners of the box packed with sweets, and there goes a banoffee pie that I first marveled into. I wasn't hungry, but I ate it anyway. Out of love, and well, I was too happy and thankful to not eat it.
I've had the best Valentine's yet. Around 3 months ago, 14th of February obviously, the same guy spent it with me in a milk tea shop near my school. I rushed after classes, excited not because of the chocolates or roses, but because I was finally spending it with this guy. He gave me tons but those weren't really much compared to the quality time we had. It was the company and the time that always seemed to run short that mattered the most. What made my heart burn to flames was that he got me my favorite cream based vanilla frappuccino not with a name on it but with something that read "because chocolates are too mainstream. The best yet.
And as I'm tip-tapping on my keypad right now, I am currently battling to finish my order. My banoffee pie that didn't came in a box, and a frapp with nothing but my wrongly spelled name on it. I was happy and one thing I never got right was the thought of having the same happiness for as long as I want it to stay. Right now, not having him around feels like I'm celebrating a sweet 16 that isn't sweet at all in a cafe on valentine's day, alone.
Wishing his arms were around me this whole time, then they would have got my smile and fixed hair right. They wouldn't have to look right through my eyes to say that I was happy, happy because I have him around.
One thing I am certain about, I wouldn't have written this without these aching thoughts, without the pain and the wishful thinking that everything was alright between us.
One thing I hope I'm getting right, is the thought of us being okay again. We will be.
You and me, in this cafe.
Like pies and frappuccinos.
or like strangers, again? Maybe.