Coffee House Stories

Chronicling the Events, sketchpads, over-heard coversations, and revelations at the Twin Cinema Coffee Shop, in Chapel-Hill, North Carolina.

Volume One: Barbara Knightly and the Untimely Arrival of Truth

Sitting on the porch, staring out at the considerable rainfall, it’s easy to see the whole thing in perspective. It’s on days like this, when the sky opens up and drenches the ground that gives us pause, reason to stop and sit here on the porch, replaying each scene, rewinding the scene and watching it in slow-motion.

I’m surrounded by dark skies, and I can see the burned cotton sending the misty rain down on me. Thinking back to why I feel this way, hollowed out, and confused beyond reason. Emotions don’t apply right now, they're too large, looming concepts, loss and love and how it all came out all at once.

I see her face, framed by her arm and the cup of coffee. Her face is paralyzed in fear, face locked in a grimace. She cries softly and thoroughly. I’m speechless. It’s beautiful to see her cry like this, just let everything out, years of doubting, now it’s over and were free to move on.

It’s my turn to talk, and where to begin? How to chronologically go through all the issues? How can I turn the phrases to represent all the ways I feel about this? Will words do them justice?

So I start from the beginning, telling her how in the beginning everything was smooth and satisfying, and how slowly, over time I fell out of love, with the lingering idea that she was cheating on me. I chose this way to disclose the way I felt, because it addresses the main issue, without sacrificing my own position.

She spent so much time constructing this façade, justifying it the whole time, convinced that what she was doing was appropriate, even encouraged. And now, it was time to let it go, in one frank wave, in public.