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I'm no stranger to disappointment, in fact, we're old battered friends and on some levels, our intimacy is record-breaking.

It is a certain kind of cruel destiny to constantly be joined so closely by pain, failure and gloom but I guess everyone plays with the hand their dealt.

Whether I ever get to shuffle my cards or not, I know that despite the infinite recklessness that I thought defined who I was for so long, I've become a coward.

The type of coward who's afraid to live and afraid to die so I just stand still in hopes that neither life nor death tries to find me.

I've seen it and I've felt it, so I know that love is both life and death.

To love someone is to give them permission to destroy you. So I've made it a strict policy to never place my life in the hands of someone else.

Humanity is never careful with entities that aren't there's to damage.

Besides, I do a pretty brilliant job of disappointing myself without any help.

So why have I gone against my entire belief system and placed every ounce of hope into this auburn haired-book reading-black coffee drinking stranger? Why do I want to love her and have her love me back?

Why don't I care that the sparks I feel for her today can start hellfire tomorrow?

I glance over to the booth that belongs to her like a sailor belongs to his ship, like birds belong in the sky and like her who I want to belong with me.

She's there, like clockwork, 2:30 pm on the dot, book and my heart in her hands.

It's hard to imagine she can't feel the rapid beating of my heart or the nerves dancing in my stomach when she's the cause.

The sharp outline of a white shirt blocks my view and I have to step back in order to refocus my vision.

Right away, I'm greeted by a lopsided grin.

"Hey man, cover Mystic's table for me, I need a break and I know you want to see her up close." Ricky beams and quickly hands me his apron, notepad and a pen as he slinks by me and disappears behind the swinging doors to the kitchen before I can tell him no.

I know this is some poorly orchestrated plan because Ricky doesn't usually take a break for another hour or two and I can feel the heavy stares of my coworkers like pinpricks against my back.

I risk a glance at them and I can see Macey and Tiffany signalling me to go and Leo, Tony and Sam trying and failing to feign ignorance.

I almost turn around and walk away but the pull she has on me is far too strong and I eventually decide to make my way towards her.

I can't help but hope this is the beginning, the start of something more, Mystic and Johnny, we sound like a bad sitcom but everybody loves sitcoms, right?

My legs feel as heavy as lead and I'm not sure I'm truly moving till I notice that I'm close enough to see the freckles that dust her cheeks and the gold specks that dot her nut-brown eyes.

Before I know it, I'm at her table and I just have to reach my fingers out to brush them against her soft brown skin.

Without warning, as if sensing my all-consuming thoughts, she looks up from her book and tilts her head to the side.

Mystic's angelic eyes flicker from my head to my toes and suddenly I'm frozen in place and my mouth has run dry.

Soon she nods a greeting at me but I'm too dazed to return one to her.

"Straight black coffee, please." Then her eyes are back to the pages of her book and I find myself willing to do anything to be that book.

As the gears and cogs of my brain turn painfully slow, I struggle to find something witty and charming to say; anything that would have her telling the world that he had me at hello.

It isn't until she casts her bewildered gaze to me and clears her throat that I realize I have just stood at her table for a full minute, clearly staring at her.

"Are you okay?" her honeyed voice has just enough concern in it, to make me feel every thunder of humiliation.

My hands begin to shake, I start to sweat and my tongue has tied itself into a knot that could make any boy scout proud.

I can see her brows knit together as she rises to her feet, presumably to check if I'm having some sort of seizure but before my brain and body can register, I've bolted into the back and left her standing out there confused and probably irritated.

I push through the kitchen doors, reaching to the very back away from everyone and everything.

I feel like I've had the wind knocked from my lungs as the heavy arms of disappointment embrace me yet again.

It's there greeting me in a dance we've always known, all too willing and never too far. I want to scream but I can't find the energy to do anything but pull off my apron and pace the floor.

"Dude, how hard is it to say hello? You can't be that big of an idiot!" Leo the head barista and on rare occasions my closest friend barks; his hands flailing around and his agitation clear as he strides over to me.

"Believe me, you really bombed out there." He glances at my face presumably waiting for a reply that will never come.

"We all had a bet going, I just lost 20 bucks, bro. I thought after stalking her this long, you'd at least have the balls to actually speak to her."

There were many moments I wanted to introduce Leo to my left and right fist but there was never a moment I felt like I could break his jaw till now.

"I mean, what's so special about her? Yeah, I guess she's cute and probably good enough for a roll in the sack but nothing-" I feel like lightning has flashed and shattered everything and anything.

My hands lunge towards Leo, gripping and ripping the collar of his work shirt before slamming him hard against the wall.

I want to stop but I don't think I can as I pull my arm back and my fingers find their way into a tight fist.

When I feel a firm hand grip my shoulder, I let my fist land at the wall instead of Leo's jaw.

As guilt begins to weigh heavy on my chest, I turn to meet Sam's disapproving eyes.

For a brief moment, I close my eyes. I want to believe that this is just a bitter daydream but reality sets in when my knuckles begin to sting and I see the flaming red that paints Leo's face.

He refuses to meet my eyes instead cursing and mumbling to himself as he stares at his torn shirt.

Sam steps forward, positioning himself between Leo and I as if undaunted by the possibility of crossfire.

He reaches up, attempting to brush away some smudges on Leo's shirt, before noticing the ripped collar. Slowly, he turns to me, shaking his head before turning back to Leo.

"Don't worry about it Leo, take a break, cool off. Get a new shirt, it's on me."

Sam slips Leo a $20 dollar bill before nudging him in the direction of the door.

"And tell Macey to serve Johnny's tables for me, make sure that girl out there gets her order and a slice of pie on us."

Leo's mouth is set in a grim line as he looks from Sam to me. He mutters some harsh words I try my best to ignore before he turns around, leaving through the door I had come in from.

"Johnny, how many times do I have to tell you, huh? Not every action deserves a reaction. Leo was just trying to rile you up and you know that."

Sam's tone is sharp, his words tangled with disdain so apparent it makes my chest ache.

Truly it is disappointing the only person who has never disappointed you, that hurts more than anything else.

I feel my face heat up in scarlet shame as I nod at the truth riddled in his words.

If you ever caught Leo on a good day, you'd realize he was harmless. He like me is just a coward, a person too afraid to care or be cared for, so he pretends not to care at all.

"Now, don't beat yourself up too much, Leo had no right mouthing off like that in the first place." Sam sighs and steps closer, stretching his hand over and patting my chest. "You got a good heart in there, don't let anyone, and I mean anyone, change that."

"I'm sorry Sam, I just got so frustrated. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like when things changed, I changed and I lost some of what makes me, me. I'm scared to talk to the girl of my dreams and I don't know how to be scared. I can be reckless, I can be angry but I can't be scared."

I can feel more panicked words clawing at the base of my throat but I try to swallow them before they materialize in the air, to be scrutinized and deemed irrational.

Sam nods at me before smiling, a small glint of amusement reflecting in his knowing eyes.

"You need to let go, let go of yesterday and let go of tomorrow. You just need to hold on to right now, right this second. Be happy, be sad, be scared, be nervous, its what makes you human Johnny...more important its what makes you alive."

I cast my eyes to the ground wanting to soak in his words before I hear Sam's booming laugh. My eyes move up to meet his, confusion written across my face in contrast to the glee so obvious on his.

"You don't know how to be scared because you've never actually had anything you were afraid to want, you're growing up, kid." He chuckles as his eyes grow wide with newfound excitement.

"I remember when I first met Shannon, I was so afraid to say hello to her, I spilt hot coffee on her at least five different times before I could find the words to ask her on a date." And there it was, Sam's heart-warming grin, the same grin that made you feel like everything was going to be okay.

And suddenly, everything did start to feel okay.

"This life, especially a real and true love life, is full of chances. If it's meant to be, it will be." Sam muses before putting his arm around my shoulders and leading us to a set of wooden stools.

"Now, let tell you all about how Shannon sent her brothers to beat me up after I burned her the third time."

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