A year of choosing you

One coffee became the whole afternoon — I said I could only stay an hour. We were still talking when they started putting the chairs away.

The train we almost missed — You were holding the tickets. I was holding breakfast. Neither of us knew which platform. We made it with seconds to spare and laughed for the first ten minutes.

Breakfast at two — Nothing on the calendar, no reason to hurry. You made the coffee while I tried to rescue the toast.

Back to our table — Same cafe, same corner. This time I knew I was going to stay all afternoon.