i met my younger self for coffee today.

he was 15, i am 22.

i met my younger self for a cup of coffee today.

someone you wouldn’t dare mess with.

he was on time, but i was 5 minutes early still. guess we never really liked making people wait.

he was shy - something that he thought he would never outgrew - so seeing his older self being so confident took him by suprise.

he didn’t speak much as first - he had a thing for taking time before trusting someone - even himself - i wish i could tell him he doesn’t need to have his defences up all the time, but he didn’t know better. he only knew survival.

in a soft voice, i asked him - how’s everything?

how brave he was when he was 15 - he smiled in a way you could forget that he tried carrying the world on his shoulder.

he told me everything was good but he was afraid of the next thing, and the thing after - i reassured him, told him to have patience, that life will unfold exactly it is supposed to.

the waiter arrived - he asked us what our order was.

he told him - he’d have a cup of coffee - not knowing any better what’s an affogato or a frappuccino - he liked simpler things then.

i added one cappuccino to our order while his eyes asked questions his lips couldn’t. he wondered how did the 7 years between us made him what i am today.

he asked me whether he ever felt loved - truly loved - something he was deprived of for a while.

i smiled and said yes! i told him he will fall in love with people and also with each version of himself, though people may at times change their mind about you but you will never abandon yourself. you will outgrow parts of yourself but you will also start getting comfortable in your own skin.

he sat with that for a minute - though he lacked the vocabulary to describe what he was feeling - but i could hear his anxious heart beating thinking it all to be a lie.

he asked about our pet - i didn’t say much - except we never really stopped loving chandler, even after his death. i told him our family is bigger now, we have lily - she just gave birth to kids. they give mom and dad company when you’re away from home.

lily : she gave bith to 4 kittens.

his smile returned and so did the waiter - along with our cappuccinos.

he took a sip as the foam covered his upper lips, for a minute he had a moustache that resembled mine, only more white.

he asked how does it feel - to become an adult - to have a job?

i told him it’s freeing - but nobody really tells you how scary it is at the same time. with freedom comes the ability to change anything from your life anytime, and that power sometimes paralyses you.

i asked him how does it feel being so young - he went quiet.

he looked outside the window as the busy sunday market was just on the other side of the road. i almost forgot how people-watching was one of the things that helped me survive so many difficult conversations as a teen.

in a low voice he replied - its confusing - that he doesn’t even know what’s wrong or right at times. that he is somehow always shoved to the back but he doesn’t mind being second place to someone else - as long as they look back and acknowledge him.

for a minute my coffee tasted bitter - i almost forgot how much we suffered to get to where i was. i held his hand firmly and told him it won’t be like that forever. that he would eventually take a stand for himself, even when it means showing his back against the world.

he asked about our friends - how we faired in that department - to his suprise he couldn’t believe half the things he heard - but maybe that’s for the better - the joy of forming deep meaningful bonds was always something he chased, so he could finally sleep peacefully knowing it’s on its way.

he was quiet again.

few minutes had passed, i was lost somewhere listening to The Smiths song that was playing in the cafe.

he was at an age where silence meant danger - so i saw his worried eyes as he took out his phone from his pocket.

he asked whether he could play some music - i guess that was one of the ways we tried filling in the silence as a kid.

something he will outgrow - being comfortable with the silence.

he showed me his favourite - ed sheeran - someone I stopped listening to years ago but i don’t tell him that. i won’t rob him of his happiness only for the sake of truth.

he was suprised to know that i play the guitar now.

i played him our favourite and he couldn’t help but sing along.

by the time i was done - i could see his eyes getting heavy.

he asked me - why does it all feel so heavy? does it ever get better?

i exchange my seat. i was sitting across him, but now i’m besides as i put my arms around his shoulder.

i tell him that it never really gets any less heavier, but we get stronger. we will end up fighting demons that terrified him all these years. he questioned everything but in front of him was the 22 year old him, so he knew we survived.

i take out the pen from my pocket and in the napkin in front of us, i write for him -

‘courage, dear heart’

something he will come to inherit. something he will come to believe…eventually.

i met my younger self for coffee today.

i wish i could tell him i loved him, but i want him to love himself first.

i wish i could tell him that she will love him as well

but that she’ll have to tell my older self over a cup of coffee when she gets there.

Buy me a coffee