An excercise in processing

An exercise in processing

         My hand was fidgeting, clicking the pen I held incessantly, but my mind was far away. I'm sure to any passerby I looked like a robot programmed simply to annoy everyone around them. Blank face, clicking pen, probably a fly circling my head.
         "Iris."
         His voice snatched me out of my stupor. I refocused and put the pen down.
         "Yes, hello, sorry. I was...somewhere else." He chuckled.
         "I could tell. Your coffee is getting cold." He sat back in the oversized armchair and sipped on his brew. Black coffee, as always. I murmured some thanks and grabbed the lukewarm mug, taking a gulp of latte before putting it back down to be forgotten again.
         "I'm sorry. I know I'm not a good source of conversation right now."
         "And yet you asked me out to coffee, instead of the usual way around." I grimaced.
         "I know. To be completely honest, I asked you for selfish reasons. I needed to get out of there, and I also wanted to make him jealous." He nodded and peered at me from over his mug.
         "How are you doing?"
I took a deep breath in and looked around the coffee shop we frequented. We were in our favorite section in the store, surrounded by bookshelves and nestled into the couch and arm chair for reading. The rest of the shop was relatively empty, the college student rush hadn't quite hit yet. There was what looked to be either an aspiring writer or doctoral student writing their dissertation at one of the tables by the windows, but she was too absorbed in her notebooks to notice anything else.
"Honestly, I feel like shit. The piece of shit that's in the deepest hole in the ground, and yet I've still been stepped on and scraped off someone's shoe. Like scraped on gravel, picked off with a stick, then blasted off with a hose, but the person still decided that their shoe wasn't worth saving and proceeded to burn-"
         "Iris, you're shit. Got it." He stopped my animated explanation as I felt the tears well up from the eternal spring I discovered inside of me a week and a half ago. I took a deep breath again and released it in shudders.
         "The venue said they wouldn't refund the deposit, even though they were 'very sorry'. My mom said it was fine, but I could tell she was disappointed."
         "That's terrible. I'm sorry." I shook my head.
         "It's not like you need to apologize. It's his fault." My hands clenched into fists. "He actually asked for the ring back. I was thinking about selling it, but...I just love it so much."
         "Listen, Iris, the man's a shit-bag. I say throw it back in his face and tell him what's what." The tears that had threatened to fall earlier began to roll down my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away, trying to stem the tide of nose drippings as well. Wyatt stood to grab me some napkins, which I gratefully accepted when he returned.
         "I'm sorry." He shook his head as I blew my nose and rubbed my eyes, waiting patiently for me to finish. "I just...you can't just forget five years of a happy relationship that quickly. I still..." My throat choked up as I wrestled to finish my sentence, "...love him. He's not a bad person."
         "He's not a bad person but cheating on you with two separate people while you're planning your wedding doesn't give him the 'Best Guy of the Year' award. And obviously he forgot about those five years real quick." I nodded and choked out a laugh.
         "At least his mom agrees with you. I heard she and his dad tore into him, from what his brothers said." I stopped smiling, still feeling the gnawing ache in my chest. "It still doesn't fix this gaping hole in my soul." I swallowed hard, pushing against the tears again. "I feel like a chasm has opened up inside and I'll be sucked in soon and there'll be nothing left of me. I don't know if I'll ever be the same again. I can't even remember what it felt like to be normal and happy." I stared down at my shaking hands.
         "Hey." Wyatt's voice was softer. "I know it sucks and it kills me seeing you go through this. It'll probably suck for a while, but it's not like you're alone. You've got me, you've got Avery, you've got all the guys at the store. Your parents are there, even though it's hard for them too. This isn't, thank God, the end of the world unless you say it is. It will get better, but only if you keep your chin up. Fuck Finn, he made the worst decision of his life doing that to you. He's a selfish dick who can go get hit by a truck. You, however, are strong, you're fine as hell, and you're the most talented person I know." I snorted out a laugh.
         "Shut up. You're way more talented, Mr. I-Signed-Four-Artists-This-Month. I can't even compare to you, or Avery for that matter."
         "Iris, stop doing that. Your achievements are amazing, and you deserve recognition. You can acknowledge your accomplishments, no one would think you're a jerk. And you worked your ass off for them. You opened your own bakery within a year of getting your degree. A fucking year. Don't discredit yourself. And Finn did nothing to help you. You did it on your own." I sniffed a bit.
         "That's not true. He tested the recipes for me."
         "Yah, and so did Avery and I, but you don't see our name on the sign out front. It's called 'IrisBakes' not 'IrisFinnWyattAveryBakes'. That's way too long. Imagine saying that." I smiled a bit.
         "I'd probably make it an acronym."
         "You'd have to. But I-FWAB doesn't make any sense. It'd be a fucking nightmare." I laughed at that. We sat for a bit in silence.
         "Thanks Wyatt. I'm glad you came with me, even though I asked you under false pretenses." He smiled back at me.
         "For you Iris, I'll always accept fake coffee-date invitations. Why would the shit-bag be jealous of me anyway? It couldn't have been my hair. His was always gorgeously maintained." I chuckled.
         "Nah, it was because you made me laugh. He hated how much I laughed at anyone else's jokes. And he's always been jealous how much I hung out with you. He said, get this, he said it made him nervous I would cheat on him. Not that I would do anything, he just 'doesn't trust other guys'. I think maybe because I talked about you and Avery a lot and how much I enjoyed spending time with you guys." He shrugged.
         "Cheaters assume everyone cheats. And it's not like you spent all your time with us. You would be a major shut-in with him if Avery and I didn't drag you out into the sunlight. I swear, you would have been growing fungus if we didn't intervene."
         "I know. I don't think he liked it if I talked too much about anyone though. It probably didn't help how much I bragged on you two though." He smiled wide.
         "You bragged on me? Little ol' me? Please tell me all the wonderful things you think of me, as I am unfortunately very vain." I couldn't help the laughter that escaped from my chest.
         "Shut up. You're one of the least selfish people I know. You're generous and kind, you're authentic and encouraging, and understanding and accepting of everyone you meet. You're one of my absolute favorite people in this world. And you deserve the most amazing person in the world, and if you can't find her, what hope is there for us mere mortals?" He smiled but went quiet.
         "Thanks, but I don't know about that." I gave him a pointed stare.
         "Wyatt, I know you've been discouraged lately about that, but you'll find someone. You could make anyone fall in love with you, just because of how great of a person you are. Just because my person was a bust doesn't mean they're all like that." He laughed.
         "Yeah, it's not that easy. I've got pretty high standards. And you know how Avery and I worked out, and she's an amazing person." I snickered at the memory of their awkward three weeks.
         "Sorry about that. I realize now that you two are much better friends than romantic partners. But seriously, you'll find someone. There's seven billion people on this planet. You and I can someone new together. Preferably not any cheating assholes though." He smiled again.
         "I'm glad to hear you slowly moving on. But there's really only one person I could see myself devoting my entire life to."
         "Uh-huh? And who is that?"
         "Our lord and savior, Celine Dion, of course." I couldn't hold back the volume or voracity of my laughter. Across the shop I saw the writer jump a little in her chair and stare at us, and the barista peeked their head out from behind the front counter. I tried to reign in my giggles.
         "I think she's married Wyatt." He took in a dramatic deep breath and set down his mug.
         "It's a real tragedy. I have only one other option then."
         "Hermitage?"
         "Tempting, but I've never been able to grow a good-looking beard. No, what I must do is engage in a real relationship based on mutual respect and trust. With Celine Dion, I would just worship the ground she walked on and would never be able to focus."
         "Naturally. Alright, so what about one of those dazzling jazz singers you know. Seems like a good alternative."
         "No, I prefer classic rock myself. I think maybe someone more down to earth."
         "Okay, so who then?"
         "You.