Coffee Cup Confessions - Trish Williford

1

Misha

“How do you ever expect to get back into the dating scene if all you do is sit in your apartment on the weekends?” my older sister, Mandy, asks as she sets a brown paper bag down on my pub table.

My mouth begins to water when the aroma of Japanese food hits me. “Who said I want back in on the dating scene?” I counter.

“You’ve been single for almost a year, Misha. Don’t you think it’s time to date around and meet someone new? Even if you don’t date, just go meet people. Be social. Make friends, for Christ’s sake.”

When the food is spread in front of us, I crumble the bag into a ball and throw it at her head, which she dodges. “I have friends, and I do leave this apartment, thank you. I work daily, I go to the gym with my best friend Drew, and I’m at Sunday dinner every week at Mom’s. I appreciate your concern, but just because I’m single doesn’t mean I’m unhappy.”

Why is there some unwritten rule that in order to achieve happiness, you must have a spouse or significant other? I got out of a long-term relationship almost a year ago, and being single has actually been a nice change. Are there times that I feel lonely? Absolutely, but having this time alone has given me a chance to figure out who I am and what I want to do with the rest of my life.

“Whatever. You’re still hung up on Noah.” She’s only semi-listening as she piles large portions of each dish we ordered onto her plate.

She eats like an athlete training for the Olympics and never gains an ounce. Needless to say, she snatched all the good genetic features while in the womb. Mandy’s long blonde hair is always bouncy and smooth, never a strand out of place. Her blue eyes sparkle in the light, almost as much as her perfect teeth. And let’s not talk about her sky-high legs.

If it wasn’t for the hint of the last name, you wouldn’t be able to guess we were related, let alone siblings. My shoulder-length brown hair is curly and wild if I don’t drown it in product and flat-iron it into submission. As a teenager, I endured many years of metal braces to receive my now-straight set of pearly whites. I stand five foot three and have curves that would look fantastic on a model over six foot but not so much on my small frame. Needless to say, I was handed the sloppy leftovers from our family’s DNA pool.

“I’m not. How many times do I need to tell you, I’m not upset anymore?” And honestly, I’m not … but I will be if she doesn’t let this go. She mentions the breakup every time she comes over.

“You’re so full of shit.” She grabs her food and plops herself down on the couch in the living room. “You are still holding on to hope that your ex-boyfriend will call and tell you that breaking up was a mistake. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Noah’s not coming back, Mish. It’s time to get over him.”

I’m getting annoyed. “I have, if you would just listen to me.”

“He’s had no trouble moving on, and you shouldn’t either.”

“Damn it, Mandy, shut your mouth for one minute and listen,” I yell from the table.

Her crystal-blue eyes grow wide at my unusual outburst, and for one glorious moment, she is quiet.

“The breakup between Noah and me wasn’t ideal, but we didn’t split on bad terms. We had grown apart. Noah and I were best friends for most of our lives, and we took a gamble on dating. It didn’t work out, and we respected and loved each other enough to end it amicably. I miss his companionship sometimes—I will admit that—but it’s because I’m lonely. But I am not hung up on him. I do not wish for him to come back to me, and I’ve even been on a few dates.”

Mandy is still silent and hasn’t moved other than blinking a few times. “If you say so. I can’t believe you’ve been dating and not told me.”

“Because the guys I’ve been out with aren’t worth talking about.” I sit on the opposite end of the couch and face her. “One of them told me about his college girlfriend who was okay with him dating someone else while she was away at school. It took me two dates to realize that he