The next morning I walk by the coffee shop. I have no other option than to walk past it since it’s on the same street as my school. I pause when I see him sitting there, his eyes frozen on one spot, the spot I usually sit in. My heart thumps erratically and my brain foolishly thinks, “Maybe just maybe he misses my presence.” I shake the delusional thoughts away. There’s no way. He’s probably never even noticed me sitting there. I laugh at the silly idea and walk away. There’s no use in hanging around and bringing my hopes up. I have finals to take.

Two weeks later, after finishing up with my finals I decide to pay the coffee shop a visit one last time. I decide to get my closure with coffee shop boy. Maybe not literally but metaphorically. I walk into the coffee shop confidently with my head held up high. When I get to my seat I notice that he’s not in his usual spot. He’s nowhere to be found. I sigh to myself, “great.” I was so determined to get my closure with him before I left to California for the summer. “Maybe it’s better this way,” I think to myself.

Maybe it is better for me to get my closure without him present. If he’s present that will only make it harder for me. I close my eyes and inhale a gust of air and release it as I exhale the words, “From this day on, I set you, Coffee shop boy, fr-“before I can finish my sentence I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I turn around to see Josh, the barista, handing me a small black leather journal. I look at him confused and he just shrugs. “A regular told me to give this to you the next time you showed up. He wanted to give it to you personally but you stopped showing up. He said it’s important you read the journal.” I examine the black leather journal as if it was a foreign object I had never seen before. It didn’t belong to me. So who did it belong to?

“A....regular...who?” I ask curiously.

“Yeah the guy that always sits in front of the window. The one with the Harry Potter glasses.” He points at the exact same spot coffee shop boy sits in. My heart is racing, it feels like it’s going to jump right out of my chest. This journal I’m holding belongs to him. My coffee shop boy. I caress the lock gently and press it to my chest. Josh gives me a curious look and tells me he’ll leave me alone to read the journal. With shaky hands, I set the journal down on the table. I can’t get myself to open it and read what’s inside it. I don’t understand what exactly is happening right now. I don’t understand why I’ve been given this or why he wants me to read it? Up until now I thought he didn’t even know I existed.

I run my hand through the journal and carefully unlock it. Very slowly and gently I flip it open. The first page has doodles all over, drawings of coffee mugs, books, roses, and in the very center of the page a drawing of a girl with long black hair reading a book. The drawing could be any girl but the heart mole drawn underneath her eye gives her identity away. That girl is me and underneath the drawing are the words, “Coffee Shop Girl.” I freeze and stare in disbelief at the drawing and writing beneath me. All this time I thought he didn’t even know I was in the room. All this time I thought he didn’t even know I existed. All the times I peeked at him scribbling in his journal he was drawing and writing about me? I pinch my arm to make sure this isn’t a dream. It’s not a dream, It’s reality. I look down at the page and written in black ink is a letter addressed to me with a drawing of me wearing my favorite yellow scarf. The whole page whirls around and I find it hard to read the letter that’s addressed to me. This can’t be real. This is just a dream.

To: Coffee Shop girl.

 

It’s been a week since I first started coming to this coffee shop. At first it was just a normal coffee shop that I went to in order to read, study, or draw. Everything changed that snowy day when you walked in with your yellow scarf wrapped around your face. The scarf was eye catching but the face attached to it was even more. At first, your face was just a face I wanted to draw for practice but after a while you became my inspiration, my muse. After a while you were the only face I was drawing all over my journal, all over my sketch book, all over my blank canvases. You fueled my imagination. You tugged at my heart strings.

I run my fingers through the words written on the page. I look around for some sort of hidden camera to indicate this is just a prank. There’s no way this is real. This has to be a mistake. There’s no way this letter is written for me. No one has ever written me a letter like this. No one has ever corresponded to my feelings this way. I turn the page to read the next letter.

To: Coffee shop girl.

 

Despite the commute to get here, I do it just for you. It’s always worth seeing your face. It’s always worth it when I see you smile at your book. I find it endearing when you giggle so loud everyone at the coffee shop turns around to look at you. Your cheeks always turn so red and you shrink into your seat. My friends think I’m pathetic for falling for someone that I’ve never talked to. They keep urging me to befriend you but truth is I’m scared that things won’t work out the way I’ve planned it in my head. I don’t know if I can handle that kind of disappointment.

To: Coffee shop girl.

I was determined to talk to you today but you didn’t show up. I rehearsed what I was going to tell you all day yesterday. I even made my best friend, Junmyeon, pretend he was you so I wouldn’t be as nervous when I actually went up to you. I’ll try again on Wednesday.

To: Coffee shop girl.

I missed the subway today because I was too busy drawing that when I looked up the train was driving away. I ran as fast as I could to get to the coffee shop but unfortunately you were no longer there. Perhaps, you didn’t show up at all. Oh well. Hopefully I’ll get to finally talk to you on Friday.

 

I don’t read the next letter. I already know that I don’t show up the following day. This was during the time I stopped going to the coffee shop. It feels unbelievable that while I was hesitating to go up to him he was doing the same. If only one of us would have had the courage to go up to each other, we would probably be together right now. My heart aches at the thought of him thinking I didn’t like him when for the past two months I’ve been head over heels for him. For the past two months, I’ve been dying to get to know him better, I’ve been dying to know who his favorite author is? What his favorite book is? What his favorite poem is? I spend an hour reading the rest of the letters he wrote to me. After I stopped showing up to the coffee shop he said he did too. In his last letter he writes,

To: Coffee shop girl.

 

Maybe this was only meant to be a one-sided romance. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be more than just a crush on a stranger at a coffee shop. It’s unfortunate that nothing was able to bloom out of this attraction. I was really intrigued to get to know you better. Maybe in another world I actually go up to you and we engage in conversation. In another world, we converse about our favorite novels, authors, and poems. In another world, I read you my favorite poems while you lay your head on my lap. I wish you the best, coffee shop girl. I hope you continue to smile towards your favorite characters. I hope you continue getting lost in fictional worlds.

Farewell,

Minseok Kim.

“Minseok” I mouth the name over and over. My nameless coffee shop boy finally has a name. I close the journal and shove it inside my bag. I rush to Josh who is counting the tip jar. “Josh! By any chance do you know where I can find the owner of this journal?” Josh gives me a sympathetic look and nods no. Finding my coffee shop boy is going to be almost impossible. I have no idea where he lives, where he goes to school or where he even hangs around. None of his letters give any information on where to find him. It’s as if he only exists between these walls. There’s no trace of him anywhere else. Before I leave the coffee shop, I give Josh a note with my name, number, email, and Instagram so he can give it to coffee shop boy. I hope he reappears again and doesn’t give up on us so easily. Surely destiny cannot be that cruel to make two fated lovers into star-crossed lovers. Despite our unfortunate timing, I know that it’s not too late for us to finally be able to tell each other the words we’ve been dying to say. I’ve read many novels- some with good endings and others with bad- and I refuse for this story to end badly. My first love story cannot end in tragedy.