Caffeinated Life

Coming to therapy has been my daily routine for two months now. And everyone seeks excitement, everyone misses first- time thrills when all becomes a cycle.

I have met mine one day. We started with a few greetings, and little talks over leg press and wall squats and stationary bikes.

Infatuation may be for the younger ones. But my heart declares so. And in these moments, I am happy to have found my 'thrill', my break in the cycle.

When he's around, I feel like spilled latte, him the tall tower of dark, sultry espresso trying to blend me into his world. He treats me like a princess, too, the extremes of how he'd otherwise treat a basketball.

He too had been injured. A life-changing story too. He had packed half his home in a far away country, to explore the life of a student athlete in one of the local universities. Sadly, he got injured right before season started. Injured again and had a second operation two weeks after the first.

And despite these, he keeps smiling everyday, coming to therapy as if it was as fun as basketball training.

He's happy enough that he lives for one more day.

And as for me? Well, I better stop feeling that sinking, draining feeling when I get lost in this routine. No complaints. No more fretting.

I just want to go back to teaching. And in time, I believe I will.