There is nothing in the world I love more than coffee, I thought. The aroma that calls you from a million miles away. The bitterness it sends through your soul, filling you up; giving you the warmth that you so desperately crave. And the darkness the blackness that reminds me all too much of my life. I didnt know what I was doing there, but somehow it made sense. I skipped my first class that day.
My first class ever. I didnt know why. If I had to think about it, I never knew why I did anything. All my life, I was guided and told what to do by others. I never realized where I was going; I walked a tight rope of others expectations thinking that if I ever took my eyes off what was ahead, I would fall. I never even looked out to see if there was another rope.
Maybe one who did not have such high expectations. I just hoped that my parents and friends knew best, and that I was heading in the right direction. I sat at one of those coffee shops, where they pretend that the black stuff that they sell you for three dollars a cup is really gourmet. I was sitting in an obscure seat, one of the chairs that they put in just in case (if it gets too crowded).
The place was packed, as it normally is on a Tuesday morning. I sat judging everyone that came in. Who were the people? Were they happy? I would have looked outside but I couldnt bare seeing the overly happy newlyweds who were blocking my view of the window and prattling on about how wonderful their day went yesterday and how marvelous today was going to be.
For them, it was just another beautiful (rainy and dreary) Tuesday morning. They were too wrapped up with themselves to even notice anything or anyone else. I sat there long enough to wait until everybody left and until the rain dripped to an end. Even then, I didnt feel like switching to a better seat. I wondered what I was going to tell my professor the next day, why I didnt come to class. I didnt know.
Id never had to explain that to him. I bet that he had paused a few extra seconds to look around the room to look for me before he marked me absent. I wondered why I was in the coffee shop in the first place. I was sitting all alone wondering why I had ever walked out of my dorm room and instead of going to my test; I skipped; and went to have coffee. This was the final test. My teacher made it clear to all of us that if we didnt pass this test, we wouldnt pass the course.
And another thing, there were no ‘redos’ if you were absent. I didnt know why I had skipped it. I had studied the entire night before, even skipped going to a party. (Which, later that night, I heard was a blast.) That was still okay for me because I was going to get Honors in Physics. I was going to be best in the class. I didnt get honors.
It took just one hour for me to go from passing with acclamations to failing. But sometime, while I was sipping my black coffee, I realized that I hadnt failed a test. I was on a path to fail myself. That morning I realized that if I was only doing something for someone else, there was no point in doing it. I needed to be able to say that I passed with honors because I wanted to, and I couldnt. I walked out of the caf with a new air to myself.
I was refreshed and I had more self-confidence. If failing one class was the payment to get my life back in order, Id give a tip. I accepted the consequences and although I was mildly disappointed that it ruined my final report, I was happy because I was no longer traveling a tight rope being guided by others. I knew what I wanted to do and I took on challenges not for others, but for myself.
