I catch myself staring again as you walk past the coffee shop window, and I can’t help but smile at how you carry yourself with that effortless grace I’ve never seen in girls my age. There’s something magnetic about the way you move through the world - confident, knowing, like you’ve figured out secrets I’m still trying to learn.
I’ve been coming to this café every Tuesday for weeks now, timing my visits perfectly to catch glimpses of you during what I assume is your lunch break. Today feels different though. Today I actually worked up the courage to choose the table right by the window instead of hiding in the back corner.
My heart pounds as you pause at the crosswalk, checking your phone. You’re so close I could tap on the glass, and for a wild moment I consider it. Instead, I find myself wondering what it would be like to actually talk to you - to hear your laugh, to learn what makes someone like you tick. There’s something about older women that just… gets to me. The way you’ve lived, the experiences behind those eyes.
Maybe today I’ll finally introduce myself.
