I haven't written for a while, which is probably why this one is so long.
I stare at the blank page,
look at my coffee cup,
decide to wait for the dark roast to cool
a little
before I take a sip.
I look back at the blank page
and sigh,
quietly,
I’m in public
and sighing loudly
seems like
it would bring attention to me.
Which isn’t bad,
but i’d rather everyone focus on themselves
instead of me.
Ironic, I know.
I’m sitting at an outside table
at the coffee shop
because i’d rather be near people
than home
alone.
I look back at the page
on my laptop
and see my reflection
my hair blowing in the breeze,
the pattern on my button down shirt
I wear
because i’m sick of rubbing on sunscreen,
and still getting new spots
that the dermatologist
might find interesting.
I can’t see the life lines on my face
unless I move really close to the screen
which feels like a ridiculous thing to do,
and probably looks ridiculous
to anyone who happens to see me do it.
I like my lifelines
far more
than the dark circles under my eyes
which have been there
for what seems like forever.
No matter how much sleep I get
(usually it’s 7 ½ - 8 ½ hours a night)
the dark bags don’t go away.
The whites of my eyes are clear,
not bloodshot.
I don’t think my eyes look tired
but maybe I’m used to them
and other people
think my eyes look
tired,
sad,
depressed,
or something else I don’t think I am.
at least not right now.
We all sometimes feel
tired, sad, or depressed,
at times,
Don’t we?
I recently noticed new lines on my face
that droop down from the corners of my mouth
I’m don’t like these
new
short
lines.
They make my mouth look like
my face is frozen in a scowl,
They seem to say
“Approach with caution,
grumpy old person”
I may be getting old, (aren’t we all)
But I try to avoid being grumpy, crotchety,
and all those things
I found scary, annoying, and unpleasant
when I was younger.
I try to be happy, relaxed, and me,
which I don’t think is scary
I’m enjoying this older version of me.
The downward lines portray
a darkness I don’t want to feel.
They’re not like my forehead lines
which deepen as the day progresses
They’re not like my cheek lines
and the lines radiating from my eyes,
the lines that appear when I smile
They linger longer
the more I smile.
I love these lines!
And this is why I am sitting
at a small
round
metal
red table
next to the sidewalk
watching people walk by
watching the cars and pickup trucks
watching the people around me.
The woman wearing
oversize sunglasses that people with macular degeneration wear
and a floppy straw sunhat.
It’s windy.
Gusty.
She’s holding onto the metal stand that holds her order number,
10,
She has a book in her flowery bag.
I wonder if she brought it to read
or picked it up from the library
on her way here.
She notices when I look her way.
so I look back at the street
and then down at my laptop.
She goes back inside.
Was it me looking her way?
Or is she concerned her order is ready
and they don’t know she’s out here.
Or maybe it was the temperature and wind.
My screen is now full of words..
My coffee cup is half empty
My water bottle will need a refill soon.
The woman returns.
puts her order number, purse, and book bag
on her table
and waits again.
She shifts and her sandals scuff the cement
She looks around
I look down.
and then
I can sense her
watching me.
So I look up.
Her head and sunglasses are turned towards me
her sunglasses are so dark.
I can’t see where she is looking,
Maybe she’s staring at me
and composing my story in her head
Maybe she’s gazing my way
and seeing another person on the patio.
and she doesn’t care about who I am
or why I’m here.
Maybe she isn’t looking at me at all.