He's a raconteur and connoisseur; I'm a junkie for that.
He has strong opinions about coffee.
We talked in circles as the sun set along the busy road, mediocre caffeinated drinks between us.
We had magical times together, and it all felt real.
He said it was "intoxicating" and "addictive."
He went to the bathroom and the women at the next table handed me some napkins. "I had one like that," she said. "You're better off without him."
We hugged in the parking lot.
I burst into hot tears. The disillusionment and absurdity of the moment poured out of me.
It happened at a crowded Starbucks.