Cafe Night with Nicole :>

A month ago, Nicole and I decided to finish a book and meet once a month to discuss and share our thoughts on it. We started with a 64-page Classic Novella, Breakfast at Tiffany's by Truman Capote.

Fast forward to this week; we met at a cozy café in the city that Nicole had chosen. I arrived first and was surprised that the place was almost full on a weeknight. I found a table in the corner near the window and realized it was a perfect spot for a little privacy.

The other seats were occupied, and I could hear various noises from multiple conversations echoing within the off-white painted walls. The voices sounded carefree, and I suddenly felt a pang of envy.

.. I am envious of how they seem to have all the time in the world to figure out matters in life that I am still getting the hang of. I'm almost thirty yet the nostalgia still has the power to put me to bed all day. I was on a two-day sick leave, by the way. Tonight's the first time I have left the house since Tuesday night. The "dizziness" comes back in episodes running throughout my sleep. It's tiring not being able to understand your own head.

ANYWAY, Nicole arrived and we started our discussion after enjoying a lovely dinner - a warm bowl of Sinigang and spicy chicken, the perfect combo for the pouring weather that almost had our meet-up canceled. We threw questions to each other to keep the conversation flowing until the cafe was about to close.

When it did, we walked on an empty, partially lit street toward a nearby building still talking about our reflections on the book -- societal changes, social mobility, personal values, and even off-topics that we just wanted to share with each other.

This reminds me of our dorm days back in college. We used to walk a lot back then and talk about the most random, both insane and nonsense matters in the world. So much has changed since then - assignments and allowances are now job responsibilities and paychecks YET we both still have this warm affection towards books.

When it was time to go home, we walked further towards a jeepney stop where I waited for my ride. The roads are wet from the heavy rain earlier and the air is cold like Christmas. I wish Christmas would come sooner.

Although it was Thursday and the week was ending, it felt like a reset button was pressed. Writing all these feels like having my hazy head go through a deep cleaning.

During my quiet time this morning, I prayed to endure this another mysterious, lonely day, and here we are resting with a comforted soul. It was not because of some mystical, transformative event, but through a series of scenes that displayed the grace of the Lord in the little details of this day - a warm soup I have been craving, the stories that gave me a new perspective and the presence of a friend that fuels the heart to keep enduring.