Written Through These Amber Eyes

I feel it in the swing of my step as “Peter” blasts through my headphones. There’s a pep in my walk today, like I’m finally heading somewhere important even though it’s just a small-town café. After a year like this one, I deserve a break. The quiet. The peace.

The past year was a test. A make-it-or-break-it kind of year. Some weeks I was full of fire, ready to take on the world. Other weeks, I was trapped in a hollow void, with nothing but the noise in my head. Friendships felt like fireworks, brilliant but sometimes shattering.

But now, here I am. The holidays are finally here, and I’m heading home for the first time in five years. I can’t remember the last time I was this ready to slow down.

Autumn to December that’s always been my season. I love the changing colors and the chill in the air. Even the books on my shelf, waiting and mocking, somehow comfort me.

I slip my hands into my coat pockets, my breath clouding in front of me as I walk toward the café. The city feels miles away now. The noise and rush seem to have slipped behind me. I’ve spent years in fight or flight mode, hyper aware of everything around me, bracing for the worst. But today, I don’t have to. Today is different.

The walk is easy, my boots crunching on the frosty sidewalk. Fewer people, no rush. It feels good to breathe again.

The café is just as I remember. The scent of fresh coffee and baked goods hits me the second I step in, and I feel the weight in my chest lift. The soft hiss of the espresso machine, the tap of keyboards, and the murmur of conversations are the kinds of noise I didn’t realize I missed.

I order my usual, watch the barista with practiced ease, and step outside, holding the cup’s warmth. The cold air bites at my cheeks, but the coffee feels grounding. The first sip is perfectly smooth and dark, with a hint of sweetness. For a moment, I forget everything. The deadlines, the pressure. It’s just me and this cup, and I actually slow down.

I saunter, savoring the warmth in my hands, feeling the crisp air cut through my jacket. I’ve missed the cold, stillness, and simple joy of a quiet morning. This town reminds me there’s life beyond the city’s frantic pace.

In the city, everything’s a rush. Every step feels like it’s pushing you toward something, even if you don’t know what that is. But here, it’s okay to slow down. To just be. To touch grass.

As I sip the coffee, I feel the weight of the year melt away. It wasn’t perfect, but I made it through. And for once, that’s enough. For now, it’s all I need.