Samantha M10A Creative Writing

Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop Setting: Cafe restaurant right after the lunch rush. Sarah: (Walking behind the counter where the registers are with her hands full of plates humming and singing. The plates make a loud crash as they are dropped into the food bin.) Ricardo: (Peering over the food window) That was crazy my friend! Sarah: I know! I am glad it is over. We got awesome tips though! Ricardo: That is great! I can take my wife to a nicer restaurant this year. Are you doing anything for Valentines Day my friend? Sarah: Sigh, no plans. I will probably rewatch season 3 of Sex and The City and order some takeout. Caleb: (coughs behind the register) Sarah: Oh I am so sorry, I didn't realize you were standing there. How are you doing today? (Clumsily rushes toward the register) Caleb: It is no problem, I didn't mean to interrupt. I am doing well thanks...Happy Valentines Day. Sarah: Thank you, you too. (smiles and pauses) What can I get for you? Caleb: I

It is so peculiar to think of all the complexities of the human soul, in others, and in ourselves. There are so many layers to a person, and so many different aspects of a person. We are all so confusing with our history, our insecurities, our hopes, our dreams, our fears, our disappointments. I do not even fully know myself yet (will I ever?) and yet I try to figure out the depths of others. How silly. Maybe that is easier at times? I don't even know why I do some of the things I do. The beginning of this year has been extremely difficult. The world shifts and moves so quickly. Everything changes so easily. If I look back a year, or even a month ago I had a completely different life and it seems to have happened in the blink of an eye. Change is hard, but there is so much beauty in change. I need to remember that. Change and grow and never stop.

what was it like to grow up without church clothes? what does it do for anyone to listen to a pervert in a sheet, telling you when to sit, when to stand, and when to speak? does it teach a child to be kind to think they might go to the burning flames of hell if they choose to be blind? does it teach compassion to be religious, or do you pass the homeless person begging for change? do you continue to walk by staring at your $60 shoes making sure a glance is not exchanged? can you tell me the difference from the child that sits in church clothes every Sunday and the child that runs and plays pick flowers and pick weeds pick lemons and pick oranges climb a fence and climb a tree what do you see? fuck someone you love fuck someone you don't fuck someone who loves you tell me the difference wear your button up and fancy shoes everyday and then tell me did wearing church clothes on Sunday help you?

I am not ready. I am not ready to say goodbye to the arms I would come home to every night. The arms I would wake up in each morning. The arms that were my home. I am not ready to say goodbye to my best friend that I shared more of myself with than I have with anyone else before, even my own self. My best friend who I laughed with, and cried with, who has seen the best of me and the worst of me. I am not ready to say goodbye to the memories of far away new places, of nights in binge watching Netflix, of hours spent cuddling and talking, of listening and dancing to you playing piano, of lazy Sundays making omelettes together, of bike rides on the beach, of lunches twice a week, of time spent waiting for you to get home from work, of waking up next to you each morning, of scratching your beard, of kissing your head before I went to work, of running my fingers through your hair, of cooking you dinner, of listening to you ramble about computers, lights, cameras, and speakers, of tex