The Space Between Us

Chapter 1

I always believed in soulmates. Well, not exactly that's a bit dramatic. But I always thought that there is a right person for everyone.

I think that there's someone who is perfect for you out there. And you will cross paths. Because that's how it's meant to be. That's how it is. That's the way it works.

The problem is, with every person that enters your life, you begin asking yourself: is that him for real? Are we for each other?

But I think, deep down, we know who is ours, who is just for us. We just try to convince ourselves otherwise.

Because we want to be loved, we want to be wanted. We want someone who is there for us no matter the circumstances. We want someone who understands us, respects us, wants us.

But let me tell you this: the right one will always find you.

But first we have to go through some heartache, some betrayal, maybe some sadness, or maybe all of them.

First we have to fall.
So we can pick ourselves up.
So we can be strong.

*************

The sky is weeping today.

Droplets of water are dotting the glass window of the coffee shop. People rushing in, rushing out. The sound of cups being put down is nearly being drowned out by the sound of heavy rain. People huddled together in corners, cradling their coffee mugs.

The jingling sound signaling the opening of the door catches my attention. A girl walks in, her arms wrapped around herself, her hair dripping onto the wooden floor of the shop.

I turn my attention back to my notebook. But I can't concentrate. I've always liked observing people, but this girl caught my attention more than most. I look over at her again as she is waiting to pick up her coffee, she is still wearing her jacket although it's pretty warm in the coffee shop.

My eyes drift back to the blank pages in front of me. I feel like they're mocking me for not being able to fill them.

I pick up my pencil and begin writing. I know that I will probably erase all the things I will write now but i still try to fight the words out of me.

Maybe I shouldn't write at all. Maybe I'm not good enough at it. Maybe I like it but it's not enough. I wonder why I started writing in the first place.

A voice startles me out of my self-loathing session.

"Can I sit here? I'm sorry to disturb you, but everywhere else is full" the girl from earlier says to me.

I look around the cafè and realize that I have been caught up in my thoughts and I haven't noticed until now that the cafe is packed.

She senses my hesitation so she begins again.

"If it's too much trouble—"

I cut her off. "No it's totally okay. I'm sorry. I'm just a bit out of it right now."

She smiles at me. Her smile is beautiful. Her eyes are kind and soft and so gentle. So brown. The richest shade of brown i've ever seen.