Red Umbrellas

There's a little coffee shop near my house. 

They serve the best nitro cold brew and they always have a good playlist on. Their iced chais fill my heart on bad days. 

On good days, I meet up with old friends within in their cream colored walls. We chat for hours, losing track of time, letting our teas go cold. They have red umbrellas out in the summer and their chairs are uncomfortable but that never matters when you're in good company. That coffee shop has been the site of many first dates, something I learned quickly was not the best idea. 

I found myself wanting to avoid the street entirely once those relationships inevitably crumbled. Now, I reserve that place for those I know won't break my heart and leave a worse aftertaste than the dark roast. So if I ever bring someone new there again, I would imagine that means I am sickeningly in love with them.