EXISTENT.

I sat, like I always had, in the coffee shop I introduced to you under fluorescent light bulbs. You knew my cure to a pulsing brain was extra espresso in my latte, and I would make you sit with me under those god damn lights to give myself a headache just to have an excuse for that extra boost of energy. I said you didn’t understand nursing school- you said I didn’t understand addiction. My orders were consistent; you had them memorized by day five. But memorization always came easy for you, so I never gave you too much credit. Who even memorizes an entire movie about cars? You did because it excited you, and I guess I had too. Well, that day I didn’t order forgiveness, but it came anyway. It came the moment I saw you walk in with her from behind a laptop. It came when you didn’t even glance over to our usual spot, but instead grabbed the coffee’s and walked away. Forgiveness came when I saw the smile on your face, and it came with a side of resentment as you ordered for the both of you, recited to perfection. I wondered what day you were on, but then decided it was best if I didn’t know as I took a sip of my water.