(no subject)
But that, my lad, was a lifetime ago."
I look up at the old man with a strange mix. This man before me survived cancer, smoking the entire way through. He stood up to an unjust system, was a detective, lived on the coast. He, in many ways, is everything I want to be. White haired, his mustache lends well to his kindly face. I get coffee enough to know him on at least some level. Pretty much everytime I walk in, which is pretty much every day, he's there. Consistantly lighting the next one, wearing his sunglasses, drinking coffee for the umpteenth time that day. Jim. His name is Jim.
We talked a bit about my Asian mom. It was light conversation about how a Korean woman will always win.
He asks me about Vietnamese women. I'm honestly unsure.
He reveals a broken heart I almost thought him too mighty to have.
His last love lasted years. The split has been less time than the relationship.
I'm only twenty, I think for a moment. My heartbreak is acceptable. Expected. At my age, I'm supposed to yearn and regret and get into all the nasty habits I'll curse about later all in an attempt to run from problems that happen to everyone but only to me.
My Asian mom once said, "You're not a man until you've had your heart broken."
It's with this thought that I realize, Jim is still every bit of what I want to be. A true man is not one who can walk on. A true man is honestly encumbered by himself. He's just as lovelorn as he was in highschool, but he's still here damnit. And he'll be here a long time after they leave.
He deserves better, but everyone does.
Be you twenty or immortal, a man will always buckle at the knowledge that they lost that one that made them smile.