"I should do it." I think to myself, but then I look down to the ground. Millions of unnecessary questions go through my mind.
"Would he deny me? What if he'd mock me? Wouldn't I annoy him? What if he doesn't think of me the way I think of him? Is he going to give me his instagram? Does he have instagram? But what if I make him feel uncomfortable? What if. What if what if what if what if-" I extricate myself from my anxious mind, and I realize it's already too late. All the time I wasted on deciding let him disappear somewhere. I laugh.
I laugh and giggle at my stupid anxiety. I'm not sad, cuz I know there are a lot of opportunities waiting for me to approach him in the future.Maybe this is how today was supposed to end. By me laughing at how shy I am, while comfortably snuggling up in my hoodie, admiring how beautiful this night is.
I get on my way home. As soon as I arrive, I fall asleep still thinking of him and his unbridled hair.
A few days passed and it's the weekend now, The 11th of September.
I decided to explore the city a little today. Alone.
I take my work with me to my shoulder bag, and head to a place that's been dwelling in my head for some time.
It's a bridge between 2 buildings, but I've never seen anyone on it.
It looks calmer than any other place in Tokyo. It almost tells me to explore it. The private place in public.
I enter a building, and discover that I need to go to the highest floor-library, to get on the bridge. I go up, up and up. I'm on the 9th floor, entering the library. It's old. It also smells old. Like old yellowish books that must be over 60 years old. The place gives a mysterious vibe. I can see all the dust flying in the sun beams. It's a beautiful place. So old, mysterious, yet generous and young. As if I could feel young love flowing through the air. Couple laughing and running through this huge labyrinth of books, giggling and falling in love,swirling the dust, playing hide and seek behind the bookshelves and hiding their kisses behind a book that writes their own story.
This library must be full of memories of feelings .That's why I feel so alive in this forgotten place. Because people once lived here.
I found the entrance to the bridge. As I enter it, a cold morning breeze hits me. Autumn is behind the corner, and I feel it too. I'm wearing a brown trench coat, my hair is getting darker and I can't stop wearing my turtleneck T-shirts.
Leaves are flowing through the wind. But I decide not to stay for too long and move to the building on the other side of the bridge. I'm searching for a coffé that should be there.
.
.
.
There is nothing. It's a plain room with a mirror wall and lots of windows. It's white. A little sun beam comes in from the outside. The windows offer a nice view on the city. It must be beautiful to be there at night. And there's nobody. Literally. I'm the only one here.
This place is as forgotten as the library. I feel a wave of sadness hit me. Such wonderful places that nobody came to admire. But maybe they like it. Maybe these places do not seek attention, to be honored by everyone. Maybe they like to stay calm, patiently waiting for some kind souls to bring love to them. These places want people who'll value them.
"Congrats, you just found a secret entrance to a secret caffé!" says the door I behold in front of me.