“What are you feeling right now?”
I continued to stare down, watching your reflection through the glass of sweet tea that sat in front of me.
“C’mon,” you said, nudging my arm from across the table, “you’ll make it through.”
I stayed silent, without noise or motion.
“So it’s really that much, huh?”
I sighed in response.
“I see.” You paused. “Do you remember last spring at all? It was horrible for the both of us. I was caught up in that losing game, and you were caught up in that darned paper. You were so caught up in it, I thought you had lost it! You were completely absorbed in how much you hated that thing.”
“For good reason,” I replied, “it was three pages of torture.” I titled my head to your right, my gaze still locked of the tall glass of tea.
“Yeah, and look where you’re at now.”
I looked up, our eyes meeting.
“You’re still standing here, aren’t you?”
You shook your head and let out a laugh as to tell me, ‘I knew what you meant.’ “Point still stands. You made it out then, you can make it out now.”
I smiled, sitting up straight. I took a sip from the sugar-loaded tea, leaning forward as I placed the glass back down. “Well, I guess I should go get started, huh?”
We picked ourselves up from off the café booths, and stepped out onto the hardwood floor.
“Thank you,” I said, turning to you as I took a step away from the table.
“You’re welcome,” you replied, flashing your signature smile that could light up an entire room.
Without any thought, I smiled back as we parted ways, not to see each other until next Monday. We were only apart for a few seconds, and yet I already couldn’t wait for next week. I hoped to be able to prove to you that I did make it through it all.