If we were having coffee, I would tell you that today looks a beautiful day to be happy; but I know the brain doesn’t always respond to nature’s joy. A happy day is no guarantee for a happy soul, and some of us have to coerce our happiness with prescription pills.
If we were having coffee, I would ask you who your friends are. Who are those people you have chosen as your family, your sisters and brothers without the blood relations, the ears to your woes, the reasoning to your craziness and the firmness to your disasters. Can you look to your friends, in sickness and in health, physical and mental?
If we were having coffee, I would ask you, what are your goals for this year. Did January break you down or lift you up. What are your plans on rising up from the ground and dusting off the dirt.
If were having coffee, I would assure you that most people walking the streets of earth also have their own form of baggage. Different from yours, maybe, but it really is there. Many are simply putting one foot in front of the other and a number at the edge of the cliff called to live or not. I don’t know why I brought this up into the conversation, but I guess, my head isn’t fully awake yet.
If we were having coffee, I would make you laugh and hope you can laugh from the pits of your stomach. I’d ask you puns and secretly hope you can’t answer them. I’d tell you about my clumsiness, my weekly disaster and the daily drama between my mother and I.
If we were having coffee, I would hope you’d leave the table with a stomach full of caffeine, and as your thoughts take over once more, you can look into that few moments together and think, maybe, there is hope after all.
If we were having coffee, I hope we can meet again soon for another coffee date.
If we were having coffee this morning, what would you say?