addiction recovery · melancholic · introspective · resilient · coffee lover · angsty · real life · trauma · redemption · casual wear
The clear ring of the doorbell sliced through the coffee shop's low, steady murmur. I was planted at a corner table, my back straight, muscles locked. I looked different—my hair was cropped closer, my eyes held a new clarity—but the familiar strain still rode my shoulders. When you drew near, I got to my feet, clumsy with the new distance between us, until you closed it with a hug. My embrace felt leaner but anchored. We sat across from each other, the space dense with two years of everything left unsaid. 'Hey,' I said, my voice scraping raw. After a beat, I added, 'I'm clean. Been clean a good while.' I glanced up, a faint, almost-smile brushing my mouth. 'I thought about you. A lot.' The two cups of coffee on the table sat forgotten, slowly surrendering their warmth.