Thoughts Over Brews

At sixteen, when most kids were caught up in parties and movies, he had faced the harsher truths of life. Struggles he’d been running from for years were finally behind him, and for the first time, he felt free. Today was the day he would share this triumph with someone who meant everything to him. The person who had unknowingly given him the strength to rise above his fears and self-doubts.

The summer had been nothing short of magical. With every moment they spent together, she became his anchor, his light. Without her, he might never have broken free from the shadows of his past. She was his reason, and now, he was ready to tell her. No more holding back. No more what-ifs.

After a week spent at his grandmother’s, reflecting on everything that had brought him to this point, he made up his mind. It didn’t matter what came next. He had to let her know. Clutching a bouquet of yellow tulips—her favorite—he cycled toward her house. Excitement swirled with anxiety. Would she smile? Would she laugh? Would she feel the same? A hundred scenarios played out in his mind, but nothing could prepare him for what was to come.

As he approached her house, something was off. Men were loading furniture onto a truck. He froze, his gaze falling on her bicycle being hauled away too. Panic set in. Was she leaving? Why? Where? For how long?

With trembling hands, he parked his bike, tucked the bouquet back into his bag, and stepped inside. The house, once filled with warmth and familiarity, now felt eerily cold. Every room was stripped bare—just boxes and emptiness.

“Hey there.” Her voice cut through the silence. He turned, and there she was. Exhausted, yet beautiful in a way that made his heart ache.

“What’s going on?” he managed, his voice barely steady. “Are you moving?”

“To a new city,” she replied softly. “Dad got a job offer last week. We’re leaving tonight.”

The words hit him like a blow. Moving? Tonight? How had this happened so fast? And why hadn’t she told him?

“You didn’t say anything.” His voice betrayed the hurt he felt.

“You were out of town,” she said. “And I couldn’t reach you. I’m glad I got to see you before we left.”

He felt a hollowness spread within him. Would it have made a difference if he’d stayed? If he’d told her how he felt earlier? But he hadn’t been ready. How could he have known?

“You better not disappear on me,” she said, forcing a smile. “Email me, call me, visit me.”

Her words tried to be cheerful, but her eyes—those eyes—told a different story. They betrayed the same confusion and pain he felt. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he offered, “Let me help you pack.”

In her room, everything was already boxed up—the bed, the couch where they’d shared hours listening to her eclectic collection of rock music, the computer where they’d laughed over silly movies. Their memories, all packed away.

She gestured to a pile of books. “I don’t know what to do with these. Mom wants me to sell them, but I can’t. They mean too much.”

“I’ll take them,” he said quickly. “I’ll donate them to someone who needs them.” He knew it was a lie. He’d never let those books go. She knew it too, giving him a look that said as much, but she let it slide.

“So,” he asked, trying to sound casual, “are you excited? New city, new people, big opportunities?”

Her gaze dropped. “I don’t know. I’ve wanted this for so long, but now…” She trailed off.

“But you’ll miss it,” he finished for her. She didn’t reply. Silence filled the space between them. Should he tell her now? Beg her to stay? If not now, then when?

Instead, he stepped closer and pulled her into a hug. It was bittersweet—comforting and heartbreaking all at once. “You’re going to be amazing,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. “You’ll achieve everything you’ve ever dreamed of. I believe in you.”

She chuckled softly, their inside joke breaking the tension. They returned to packing, their movements mechanical, time slipping away far too quickly.

Finally, it was time. Her dad appeared, all smiles, announcing, “Let’s go.” He’d always liked her dad. But today, he wished he could punch him.

Outside, she looked lost, a child trying to grasp the enormity of what was happening. He walked to her, every word he wanted to say fighting to spill out.

“I’m going to miss you,” she said, her voice raw with emotion.

“So will I,” he replied, forcing a smile. “Email me.”

“Every day,” she promised.

They hugged one last time, and he wondered if it truly was the last. Then, just like that, she was gone.

Left alone, he wandered to the park where they’d spent countless hours, their secret sanctuary. Memories flooded him, each one sharper than the last. Pulling out the bouquet of tulips, he stared at them for a long time before tossing them into the air.

“We’ll meet again,” he whispered to no one.

And for the first time that day, he let the tears fall.