The Unmet Version of Us

In the quiet corner of an old café where we often met, the smell of fresh coffee mixed with nostalgia as I sat down, waiting for someone who would never come. It wasn't that I didn't know you anymore; it was more that the you I knew was slipping away, obscured by the shadows of someone I'd never had the chance to meet.

You used to sit across from me, eyes always dancing with stories, tales that twisted and turned like the winding roads of our small town. We shared dreams between sips of coffee, weaving plans amidst the noise of clinking cups and murmured conversations. But now, those memories seem like tales from a foggy…