Coffee
If I were lucky... scratch that: if i were blessed, the place would be empty.
Well maybe not entirely empty. There might be one or two tables occupied. Older couples possibly. Ones that understand.
But mostly, empty. Quiet. Warm.
I would hope to be relaxed and somewhat confident. No words prepared, but rather clear ideas to communicate. The only expectation I would have is that she would listen openly. Not with her ears, but truly, actually, listen to me. I want to be heard. Can I say that? Is it okay to want that? Pretty simple concept, but I really dislike starting just about any thought with "I want...".
But I do.
I think back to that lonesome tree that fell in the woods. With nobody and nothing around to hear it's thunder, it's kind of a waste. Anti- climactic even. There are two type of trees in the woods: the ones that are standing and the ones that aren't. Both are silent. It's the transition that matters. The noise. The act of being heard.
The tree lives it's whole life in silence, and has only this one great moment to look forward to.
I'd imagine the tables will be made of a nice wood. I'll probably notice this, and laugh to myself a little. Maybe the table will be sympathetic and listen to me. Maybe it knows what it's like.
So yes, it's okay to want to be heard. But never take a listener for granted...
Well maybe not entirely empty. There might be one or two tables occupied. Older couples possibly. Ones that understand.
But mostly, empty. Quiet. Warm.
I would hope to be relaxed and somewhat confident. No words prepared, but rather clear ideas to communicate. The only expectation I would have is that she would listen openly. Not with her ears, but truly, actually, listen to me. I want to be heard. Can I say that? Is it okay to want that? Pretty simple concept, but I really dislike starting just about any thought with "I want...".
But I do.
I think back to that lonesome tree that fell in the woods. With nobody and nothing around to hear it's thunder, it's kind of a waste. Anti- climactic even. There are two type of trees in the woods: the ones that are standing and the ones that aren't. Both are silent. It's the transition that matters. The noise. The act of being heard.
The tree lives it's whole life in silence, and has only this one great moment to look forward to.
I'd imagine the tables will be made of a nice wood. I'll probably notice this, and laugh to myself a little. Maybe the table will be sympathetic and listen to me. Maybe it knows what it's like.
So yes, it's okay to want to be heard. But never take a listener for granted...