It has only been seven days and you have occupied my mind more than my own thoughts. Last week when I saw you first, I assumed you were sad. Coffee is more enjoyable when you have it in the company of others. But you were alone. And so was I. Therefore, I made the assumption that you were sad, as was I. That day your sadness gave me comfort, a sense of companionship and a hope of sharing our pains.
Second day you appeared more relaxed. I wondered if you had found the comfort in this coffee shop and I grinned when I saw you playing with the cup of coffee. This is exactly what I do after finishing my coffee. Strangers we are, but a web of unknown habits connects us mystically.
Third day you brought a book with yourself which assured me that you had found a new home here. After all, your home and house do not necessarily need to coincide. Your home could be here too, in this coffee shop. That is my philosophy. Don’t know what is yours. But I would like to know some day. By the way, that day you smoked a cigarette too. I do not smoke, but I loved the way you did.
Day four and five were unsightly different. You came, had coffee and left. Before I could gape at you for more than few moments, you were gone. I felt bad. Perhaps I was getting habitual to your presence, or addicted may be.
Day six was special. You looked at me. This was the first encounter of our eyes. It was awkward. Probably not as awkward as I thought it was. You smiled, I froze. Because it was the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. I wish I could explain that to you.
Today, I waited for you. And I am still waiting, though the chances of that happening are rare. It is too late now. All I can do is to hope you will come tomorrow. And you will smile again. And I will smile back this time, to begin a new beginning.
Your Secret Admirer.