I find myself constantly struggling to find myself writing. Whether it's a problem with my motivation, desires, ability to choose actions, or that I have too many ideas to get into words I'm never actually actively writing! And for calling myself a writer, despite my daily routine and job, that seems to be a major problem in my world. This morning, however, I awoke writing a letter to the one person I can't seem to get out of my head these past few months. This happens to be the person who introduced me to the world of coffee and the joys of working in a community: my Ex-boyfriend. What a strange way to open one's eyes to the dawn of a new day.
A little back story:
Shortly after I met my Ex and we started dating he transitioned employment to Starbucks Coffee. He lasted there for about three years (on and off, as one does sometimes) and I watched him enjoy and despise working in the coffee world. What I believe he despised was the 'need' he saw in people's eyes and the rudeness that accompanied a wait's duration for the 'quality' beverage. My Ex was a bit of a perfectionist, though I can't say Starbucks embodies the same morality. Since Starbucks he worked a new job almost every year searching for something comparable in the modality of building community, friendships, and honoring humanity while making enough money to move us toward marriage, a house, and children. I must say I was enamored enough to follow along and pursue such ideas, though our relationship was far from ideal. After eight and a half years, we broke up officially.
By this point I had secured myself in coffee and management, though had yet to combine the skills until shortly after we broke up. It's now been eight years since I've seen or heard from my Ex. I'm working as a Barista at a beautiful local coffee shop known as Red Frog Coffee in Longmont with sights on bigger and better things.
Last night I had a dream of him. It was amenable, and potentially enjoyable, having him (and his husband) joining a group of friends at my house - though not the one in which I currently life. Without going into the details of the dream, it left me wanting him back in my life. Not nearly as close and comfortable as before, but never as distanced and quiet as we are now. As we have been for the past eight years. Without realizing it I was composing a letter in him mind, quietly resting next to my fiancé as he soaked in the last moments of sleep.
Instead of writing a letter I fear would not find its way home, I have recommitted to composing words for a fanbase I'm not sure even exists in hopes of finding answers for myself and from you, my reader. Is it right to send a letter after so long? After so much silence? A letter as a re-introduction to potential conversation? Or am I playing with the subtle ease and joy of "'Member-Berries" -- to steal an idea from South Park -- in an attempt to stroke my ego about the past?
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