Dear Coffee Shop Boy

Dear coffee shop boy,

You may not have known this,
but you touched the life of a high school
girl who had a bad addiction to mochas,
rainy days, and your witty sense of humor.

She liked the way you were honest and
talked with your head dipped low even
though now she realizes it had been
a sign of depression and low self esteem.

She liked the way you could make her laugh
until she cried without trying, make her look
forward to seeing if you were working that night
or not, and the way you made the perfect coffee.

Her favorite story of yours was the time you
spontaneously decided to tattoo corn on the cob
on the top of your left foot like it was nothing because
she wished she could have as few cares as you did.

But now she wished she had picked up on the signs you
had tried to show her but it had gone over her head, too
young and self centered to realize you did what you did
because you felt like there wasn’t a lot going on for you.

You wanted to express yourself in ways you didn’t know how,
surprised by the genuine laughter you created effortlessly
around you, and too often your kindness and sad brown eyes
were overlooked until it was too late to do anything about it.

She still has those records you gave her all those years ago,
once in a drawer at her mother’s house but now will hang proudly
in her new home and will be properly listened to in your honor even
though it should have been done when you were still there to appreciate it.

Your love for music was inspiring, nimble fingers wasted on ungrateful
coffee lovers, your soft spoken voice drowned out over meaningless
chatter and coffee house tunes, hoping one day the music you create
could inspire others just as you had inspired me all these years.

You had given her free or cheaper coffee just because she
came in often and listened to your jokes and your music and genuinely
cared about your life and interests and what went on around you
even if you yourself deep down didn’t deem it important enough.

It’s hard to think what once had been a cup full with life has
now been poured down the drain too late to recognize and
save something that had so much more meaning
than we thought and should have recognized sooner.

You and the coffee shop are now gone, ghosts of good times
gone by too quickly and reminders of the joys you both had
brought to so many people, especially the high school girl who
had a bad addiction to mochas, rainy days, and your witty humor.

You may be gone, but your memories will go on forever in the loop
of your vinyl records of your soft spoken voice and passion for music,
and in the faded sketches of my mind of your face behind the counter
and in the way I can still smell the coffee you made in my clothes.

Thank you for all that you had done,
for all the things that you do,
and for all the things that you wanted
to do but couldn’t find the strength in the end.

You’re my hero and I’ll miss you so much.

With love,

The high school girl you knew all those years ago.