Lives Between Walls

Today I drew up another business plan for my coffee store. James is probably going to be excited when I give him this one – he is more like my task coordinator, project manager, and good friend. I hated starting projects but enjoyed so much coming up with the ideas. I had never considered myself the business woman. I would always envy my friends who were more ambitious than me starting their own practices and brands. Updating their Facebook statuses to ‘self-employed,’ or ‘founder/ceo’ of something or the other. And there I was stuck in a normal 8 to 5 job. It made me feel like I wasn’t living life. Brenda’s fashion business is now internationally recognized. She is currently in New York as we speak, making money and ‘living her best life,’ as the young people say today. We used to be really close friends in varsity, but clearly our paths were going to be very different. Every now and then I see Monica on television on her cooking show, ‘You are what you eat.’ Another successful business-woman-used-to- be-friend-of-mine. Not that we aren’t friends anymore but her schedule is too cluttered to fit me lil old me. I’m sure its hard enough juggling fame when you’re also married and have your own family. It seemed that unless you had a business, you were not as successful as you had the potential to be. Working under an employee would always limit your success. This is something I got to conclude as I observed my friends’ lives. I wanted that as well. However I was not the ‘go-getter’ that my friends’ were, I was more reserved and introverted. Don’t get me wrong, I was a hard worker and had good work ethic, but you need more than just that to start and maintain a business. You need charisma, you need boldness, and you need to be daring. Hence that is why I thought that I could never have a business of my own. However 10 years later, I can say I am a CEO of Racqui’s Coffee Place. I’m really proud of myself. I mean it’s not as glamorous as others’, but at least I have a legacy to pass on. At least I can look back and say that I built something.

I drove to town that morning to meet with James at the library. If one didn’t know James, one would think that he worked there! He is always there, reading studying something or the other. He looks like a typical nerd infact. The type that always got picked on or bullied at school. The drive to town was always a quiet one with hardly no cars on that route, that’s why loved it. I had an irrational fear of traffic. I guess I feared having to be irritated or having to hoot or shout at someone. The thought of confrontation made me shudder. My psychologist says that I am a people pleaser. I’m addicted to making people happy, hence I hate the prospect of causing someone displeasure even at my own expense. It makes me laugh how deep this thing goes, right into my concerns about traffic. Perhaps it would explain why I feel the way I feel with regard to James. “Music,” I muttered when I realised that I was getting lost in my own thoughts. I switched on the radio, and classical music filled the Wolkswagen Jetta cabin. I didn’t like being alone in the car. It made me get introspective and it always brought up those things that should rather remain forgotten. I bobbed my head to some Beethoven as I drove towards my destination.

I parallel parked the Jetta alongside the library entrance. For once I managed to find parking, usually I have to park quite far away and do the ‘great trek’ to the entrance. I guess it’s not as packed today because schools are closed. I locked my car, double checking the door handle incase of remote jamming and made my way to the library. I caught sight of James sitting on one of the benches alongside the bookshelves, looking intently at the books – almost as though he had been searching for a specific book. As usual, he looked a mess – his shirt untucked, his beard unkempt. Infact I don’t know if it was just me, but he looked scrawnier today than before. I walked towards him – I glanced to the side and saw the librarian smiling at me. I smiled back. I wonder what she was thinking. Did she think he was my boyfriend and she was feeling pity for me? Was she thinking what kind of woman am I to not take care of my boyfriend? Feelings of shame immediately washed over me – which is weird because we are not together. But the thought that she might be thinking that made me feel bad. I know I am not romantically involved with James, but is it my responsibility to look out for him as a friend? I shook my head to try and dismiss the introspective thoughts and came towards James and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, a bit surprised to see me, “Hey Racoon!” He smiled as he embraced me in a warm hug. “Hey Dexter,” I teased him back. “Didn’t expect you this early though,” he replied as we walked to go sit at a table in the corner of the library. “Hope I’m not disturbing anything important,” I said as I sat down at the table with him. “Not at all dear,” he replied as he cleared the messy desk of open books and newspapers. James hid himself behind work and being busy. One could tell he was not married. He was a bit cute though, but it was buried under the layers of scruffiness and self doubt. It just needed the right woman to bring it out. Or more accurately, he needed self love. That’s what he was missing first. Cause how do you expect someone else to love you if you don’t bother to love yourself. How did he expect me to love him as well? I felt guilty that I had not accepted his proposal that day. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it because I knew I would be doing it out of sympathy and not love. “So, what do you have for me Racoon?” He smiled as he adjusted his glasses. I explained to him the plan for my coffee store. We talked about it and he gave me fresh ideas and direction. We had quite a long discussion about it, we laughed and had a good time. I had always enjoyed myself around James.

James was a genius, since varsity I knew him. I decided to become close friends with him because I knew he would motivate me to become better. I guess however he got the wrong idea. Not many people had gotten close to him because of his social ineptness. However for whatever reason, I could relate to him. I guess its because I knew how it felt to be isolated. So when I got close to him, I guess he felt it could be something more. He proposed to me at the end of our varsity year. “Oh James,” I had said with a sigh as he revealed that diamond crusted ring over our supper table at that restaurant. “Can we talk about this first?” I remember I took the ring just to appease the onlookers who had given us a standing ouvation thinking that I had said yes. Argh I hate so much attention. Later on at the house I let James down gently by explaining to him that him and I were two different people. Besides, I don’t want to take him on as a project to fix, if I’m going to be with him, I want to accept him as he is – and I can’t do that. I need someone that can complement who I am, someone who will sweep me off my feet and someone who will be my type. It’s been 5 years later, and I still haven’t found that person.

James walked me to my car, and we hugged goodbye. I got into the car and watched him shuffle back into the library. I wondered to myself if one could fall in love with someone just because they felt sorry for them? Isn’t that like being desperate? Or could it be that the man I am waiting for is inside James and he just needs to be invited out? I shook my head and dismissed those thoughts. No there is a perfect person for me, I will wait for them and not compromise my happiness. I won’t settle for James, because that’s not fair on him either. “Music,” I said to myself as I switched on the radio and drove away.