As I was looking for the bus a familiar face entered my view. She has known me for years, but not really known me, we have hung out here and there, and she is someone I would like to get to know better. She was my coffee girl, from the bux on roscoe and paulina.
In the years that have passed, all of her major qualms have been appropriately dealt with and are no longer problems. The job she hated has been replaced by something new and different. She decided to go to cooking school and is working in a restaurant for a very difficult chef, who, she says with some cheerfulness, is supposed to teach her something about the business and is supposed to be very good.
She says all this with a five day old burn on her hand covered in bandages.
A long time ago, she ached for love. She wanted it more than she could ever admit to, and each time I saw her I could see the pain of loneliness in her eyes. She has recently found someone to be with, someone who lives with her, someone who is right for now...
When she first told me about her, the glee in her face was a glow and she had to write it down on a piece of paper for me so that no one else would know.
In just this year, that age when people start getting themselves together, stop working the shitty jobs they hate, start doing the things they've always wanted to do, she is doing it all. And yet, there is a sadness in her eyes. There is a pain there that I will not know for sure. She and I have always shared a certain winking kindredness, a kind of knowing glance in which words weren't needed.
I hope as I begin to clear out the messes in my life I will have room for the intriguing people I've always wanted to know.
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