All I want is to be held by her. I miss her so fucking much. Why hasn’t it gotten any easier? I don’t want a bench, I want my Mum back. Why is this so hard?
I slowly get up and take a seat on the bench. I wipe my eyes before rubbing the metal plaque. The words are beautiful.
“She really was a golden whirlwind of life,” Kai whispers to me. We all loved her for it. “Now she can watch the sunset every night like she always said she wanted,” he adds, trying to comfort me.
We used to come down here most nights to watch the sunset. Sometimes it was just Mum and me, but other times it was with Kai too. She always joked that Kai and I would end up marrying each other. We’ve been best friends for so long that I think of Kai as a brother. I love him, but not in that way. We used to hate it when she joked about that. She’d hum wedding music, and we’d cover our ears. We would have picnics and take pictures. I came out to my mum here too.
They were all good memories. I need to cherish them. It’s time to get myself together now. It’s going to be hard, but Mum would hate to see me like this. I need to escape this pain, because the longer I stay like this, the harder it’ll be to leave this headspace. There’s something inviting about sadness when that’s all you’ve known for a while.
But it shouldn’t be that way.
It’s time to make a change.
The first step to getting yourself out of a downward spiral? Get back into your old hobbies. For me, I know things are getting bad again when my old hobbies no longer interest me. The first to go is usually reading because it takes a lot of focus. So, I’m going to a bookshop and buying a book, which I’m determined to finish.
I loved reading as a kid. I remember when I read my first book with a gay character in it. It made me realise that the feelings I held deep within my chest were normal. I wasn’t weird or broken, I was just a normal, gay human being. And that’s okay. Once I read that, that was it. I was reading gay romances every single day, and I eventually came out to my Mum. I think she saw it coming. I kept coming home to my books neatlyorganised in my library, even the spicy ones I had hidden away. I didn’t realise it at the time, but I think it was her way of telling me it’s okay, before I was ready to say it out loud.
I walk past a small boba shop I used to visit frequently when I was younger. It’s on the main strip of town close to the butchers. It’s nestled in a small alley, and there’s a canopy above some beautiful stone tables. Oak benches line the wall, alongside paintings of the Cornish coast. Colourful bunting hangs from the ceiling too. It’s lovely in here. The peak tourism season isn’t until June and July, so the shop is relatively quiet.
Three girls are working behind the counter. I walk up, and a girl with short red hair turns around.
“Hi there, what can I get you?” She asks, tapping the screen rapidly. Her name tag reads ‘Cat’ with little daisy stickers.
“What specials do you have today?” I ask, because I’m unsure what to get. I haven’t had boba in a while, I think because I always went with Mum, the thought of going myself put me off. She wouldn’t want me to deprive myself, though; she would say I was just being silly.
“We have this really nice raspberry and pomegranate fruit tea that has strawberry boba in it. I think it’s lovely, I’ve literally been making it for all my breaks this week,” Cat explains, her smile wide. It’s one of those contagious smiles.
“Okay, I think I’ll go with that then, you’ve sold me,” I laugh as I pay for the boba.
“What’s the name?”
“Noah,” I tell her, she starts writing it down on a sticker and places it on a cup. There’s a small bookcase in the corner, with small handmade coffee cups lining a shelf above. There’s a sign that reads:
Handmade Pottery by Crystal
Lovingly crafted right here in Perrancombe
£5 each | 3 for £10
I study the selection of books they have on display for anyone to take with them. There’s a sign asking that you replace it with one of your favourites when you come back. That’s such a cool idea. You can learn a lot about a stranger from their favourite book.
“Oh, if you want a bigger selection, there’s a bookshop down the road,” a blonde girl tells me from behind the counter. Her name tag says Daisy on it, and there’s a sticker of a black cat on it.
I think I know what’s going on here.
They’re definitely dating.
“Oh, I might actually,” I reply, walking back up to the counter.
“Yeah, our friend is the owner. It’s mostly a queer bookshop but there’s other stuff there too,” Cat tells me as she cleans the counter.
“I actually prefer queer books,” I tell her and she flashes a smile.
“Perfect, well, you can tell him we sent you,” Cat says, as she finishes up the order. An older woman with long black hair turns around and studies me. Her name is Charlotte according to the name tag on her chest. No stickers, though. I smile awkwardly at her before she decides to say something.
“Where do I know you from? Are you a local?” Charlotte asks, adjusting her glasses above the bridge of her nose. My mother wore a similar pair.
“I’m a local, but I’ve been away at University for the past year.”
