I Met My Younger Self for Coffee Today

She arrived ten minutes early, her curly hair bouncing with every step, frizzed out by the humidity of the coastal air. Her colorful backpack pulling her down filled with school books, ripped notes, a pencil case with colored pens, snack wrappers from the week, and a book to read in her free time. She has a hesitation in her walk, flat shoes, and her school uniform. Her makeup is heavy with color, the black-rimmed eyes and bright pink blush, with nothing on her lips.

At 17, time seems to go by slowly, counting down the days for high school to end, and your future to begin, still not knowing what that will be like, but anxious for anything to come.

I arrive on the dot, my curly hair tamed by all the products I've put in. My purse sits lightly on my shoulder, holding a small wallet, my phone, and the book I'm reading at the moment. I walk with caution, looking around, calming my anxieties, in flat shoes, a pair of jeans, and a shirt, heavier on the makeup but lighter on the colors, finally finding my way to use products that complement me.

At 27, time seems to pass too quickly; life feels like it's heading to an end that I can't control, just waiting for the wave to wash over me and carry me wherever it wants to go.

We sit across from each other, I peer at her face, but she keeps looking down, and then right at me. We sit in silence until our drinks arrive. An overly sweet frappuccino and a vanilla iced latte. We take the first sip, and silence is broken.

17: “Are you happy?”

27: “That's a really hard question to answer.”

17: “Okay, are we still living with our parents?”

27: “I just moved back, but I spent many years living in the big city.”

Her eyes go wide with the mention of the city, and I give her a small knowing smile.

17: “ I thought we just moved one town over.”

27: “We move to the city. You fall in love with it — all of it. But eventually you will have             to say goodbye more than once, and each time will hurt worse than the last, yet it              will still be necessary.”

17: “Why can't we stay?”

27: “Life will throw so many things your way, some are unavoidable and others could               have been, but they will happen anyway.”

She gives me a scared look, I see our anxiety in those eyes, the fear of the unknown, I try giving her a reassuring look.

17: “Did we go to college?”

27: “Yeah, we major in business, you won't like it, but you also won't hate it as much as          you think you will.”

17: “Can I choose something different?”

27: “Maybe, but you shouldn't, you’ll meet so many people who will teach you so many         life lessons and friends that will stick with you and play a major role in your life” I let         the words sink in until I add, “also I don't think anything will change our outcome. “

17: “What outcome?”

27: “Well, moving back to your parents’ house, unemployed, and looking for a change            in everything in your life.”

17: “Oh, nothing will change that?”

27: “Nothing that you could do, but we are finding our way in life”

17: “Will I never be happy?”

27: “You will be, in many stages of your life, you will have pain, heartbreak, sadness,               but also so much joy, you will learn to love your life and live it the best you can, it                won't always be easy and you won't love it all the time, but your learning to love all           stages of life. “

17: “So I'm still going to therapy.”

27: “Yes, but this time it's different.”

She pauses to think; the unasked questions linger in the air. In the end, she moves on.

17: “Do you have a boyfriend?”

27: “Yes, we do, we have to do long distance for a while, but we are making it work.”

17: “Is it…?”

27: “No, it's not, you won't meet him for a couple of more years.”

17: “Is he the love of our life?”

27: “I believe he is, he will change your life in ways you can even imagine. We still have          a lot to figure out, but he will be one of the best things to happen to you.”

Silence settles between us, the end is coming, and we both feel it, the bittersweet moment of goodbye.

17: “Are we gonna be okay?”

27: “Of course we will be.”

17: “I am happy to see you, I don't know if this is what I have wanted, but I am happy to            see you.”

27: “It's not what we wanted, but I'm happy to be here, and knowing everything you will          go through, I know you will be happy to be here when it's your turn.”

17: “See you in ten years? “

27: “See you in ten years.”

We walk back home in silence, our coffees half drunk. We talk aimlessly on the way. We stand in front of the same house that looks so different to each of us. I reach out to grab her hand and squeeze, and we both walk in.

At 17, she walks in and her mom and sister are already home, there is a baby wailing at the top of her lungs, waiting to be held. She takes it all in, not knowing what's to come, but content with the idea that she will be okay.

At 27, I walk through the door and my mom is waiting inside, my dad won't be home until later, and it's just us for the moment. I take the silence in, not knowing what's to come but hopeful everything will be okay.

-M.F.