yesterday at the coffeeshop

A song comes on my iPod – something soft I found recently – always makes me feel softer, as if i’ve taken a deep breath and am calming down.

And, its wordless melody plays in such a way that I feel my heart breaking. 

I notice one of the items on this small, round, well-worn table where I sit — my black wallet. Its rectangular shape lies atop a copy of today’s New York Times yet to be read. A white receipt peeks out along with the small edges of cards from my life; Delta SkyMiles, Healthcare, ATM. 

What I’m struck by most is the wallet cover; its many creases & markings from my years with it. Looking at it, I am suddenly aware that I’ve owned it for as long as I have known you, 16 years, or thereabout. And just as suddenly, my heart sinks and tears swell at the flashes of our history. My friend, I miss you.