Conversations in a Random Coffee Shop

            She told me so many things over the course of those few weeks, at that table by the window where I would so often find her sitting alone. So many things.

            She told me she wanted to be alone. She told me to please stop bothering her. She told me, okay, if I insisted, I could sit with her, but only for a few minutes, then she really did want to be left alone. She told me her name, major, favorite classes, favorite latte (pumpkin spice). She told me she had to get going, but it had been nice chatting with me.

            She told me, sure, I could join her if I wanted. She told me about her classes, her upcoming exams, her experience in college so far. She told me about activities she had become involved in, clubs she was thinking about joining. She told me, yeah, maybe we would end up in something together one of these days, that’d be awesome...!

            She told me, all right, sure, I could sit with her. She told me she was doing okay; she was tired, but other than that.... She told me, no, she wasn’t tired of me, she just hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, there had been something loud going on outside her window. She told me her favorite music, interests we happened to share, her career plans (or lack thereof). She told me she hoped to see me around.

            So many things.... Some days she didn’t tell me as much. Sometimes she seemed to be telling me, with her toned-down responses, the labored angles at which she sat, her eyes seeming to gaze past me, that she didn’t want to talk to me; yet she also seemed to tell me (what else could she have been trying to tell me, with that fleeting, yet strangely inviting, smile that she flashed me almost every time she saw me walk in?) that she was fond of me...

            She told me of course I could come join her; I shouldn’t have to sit alone! She told me about herself, shared some stories from our lives before college. She told me she really didn’t have time to get together with me, at least not this week. She told me that was okay, we’d still be seeing each other here at the coffee shop.

            She told me it was okay, I could sit here if I wanted to. She constantly seemed to be trying to convey that she didn’t want me there; yet as I got up to leave, she told me, a tad more cheerfully, that she would see me again soon...

            She told me, yes, she enjoyed talking to me.... She told me, no, of course not, I hadn’t imposed myself, or made her uncomfortable, at all.... She told me it was all okay!--I was always welcome to sit with her, and if she ever seemed uninterested in talking to me, it was nothing personal, she was probably either tired or just...had something else on her mind. She told me she had to go, but she’d be seeing me soon, wouldn’t she?

            So many things...yet she barely told me anything the next time I sat down. She told me she really wasn’t in the mood to talk right now. She told me nicely to leave her alone. She told me, no, it wasn’t my fault, of course we would talk again soon, but for now, would I please just leave her alone. She told me all these things...

            ...yet she hasn’t told me anything since.