Rushing into love was different than bumping into him. 
If this was a romance the beginning was just classical: we were crashing into each other, he accidentally poured coffee over my blouse and would invite me out - as an apology of course. I didn't need to tell he'd buy me a new coffee because he had to be respectful, kind and sorry as well as he had my blouse cleaned in a laundry because he would never use his own washing machine; - although it was cheaper and not as ornate than having it cleaned in a washery. Perhaps I earned too less money and I was too lazy to have my garments cleaned by someone else, or he wanted to specify as he could afford himself the cleansing. But whoever was able to pay the bill of a laundry was also able to buy a washing machine. That was just the weird cliche for the first meeting between the lovers of a typical drama which would end up in tears and an unnecessary heartache. At the end the story itself was more important than the cleaning, and barely anyone would waste a thought of hot coffee on white blouses: black, or at least brown on white. 
I felt like one of those teenagers who were already dreaming about a relationship and were left heartbroken. But instead of chocolate or vanilla ice cream I'd eat salty cookies. I wasn't the type for cute, fluffy nor sweet things. I just wanted to become an old woman, married to an old man, joking about our wild youth and life or being his first love. 

Although he shared his coffee with my blouse our case was different. It was classical and yet extraordinary. Not because I confounded tea and coffee or neither he needed my help. The particular between us was our meeting. He could've met anyone, but he rushed into me. I didn't believe in fate, yet it was us who met. We and the confusion. More confusing than my tangled earphones. He was confused because he was lost and I was confused because of something I couldn't describe; we both were probably confused because of the uncertainty or the confusion itself. I was confused. 

I tried to guess his mind while he helplessly grabbed his hair and irresolutely turned in circles so he would find his way back home. He was stressed. Apparently it wasn't a secret he is suffering from depressions so far. I wasn't surp