“Charm, do you have any plans for this evening?” says the boy next to me.

I shake my head saying, “Not really, why?” 

“Do you want to go and grab a cup of coffee by the beach?” he gently asks.

“Why not?” I reply.

When he comes and talks to me, I am reading a book at the mobile library. The library opens weekly on Saturdays around 4:00 pm. It is crowded Today. Sunny weather always brings new visitors. Our humble library stands next to the Kaladan River, on the west side of Myanmar. It is called “The Breeze of Literature”. People usually come to the library to read books while sitting on the benches facing the ocean. Some come just to enjoy loud chatter with friends, breathing the fresh air from the sea. We are both volunteers there. We help set up the library. Chat with visitors. Help them find the books. Once the library is called off, we both take a ride to the cafe on the beachside with our bikes.

The trees are green. Spring is here and butterflies. The bright yellow “Ngu Wah” flowers are letting me know it is April already. The last time I got a haircut was in February. My ear-length hair is flowing in the spring air as we ride against the wind. I never had that much long hair before. Now, I am keeping them messy like an unmade bed. My dad told me to cut it a couple of weeks ago.“It is my hair, Dad. I do not wish to cut it yet.”, I cried.

“Charm! We are almost here”, his voice brings me back to the present.

It takes us a 15-minute ride to get to the coffee shop.

“French Press, as usual?” he asks me.

I nod. 

“One French Press and a latte, please”, he orders.

We take our orders and sit on a bench next to each other. I could see the greenish colour of waves constantly running towards the orangish shore leaving beautiful curved shapes when they leave the shore. The sun is setting in his eyes, here by my side. The thin air of spring is stronger now. I don’t even need a sip of coffee. I can feel it all. He asks me if I am getting along with my parents. 

“You know them. They never listen to me” I reply.

“How are they taking the fact that you are not going back to the university?”, he follows up with the question.

“They are mad. They are mad that I am not going back to school. They are mad that I am keeping my hair long. They refused to let me spend another day without having dinner with them. It is so suffocating to live at home these days”, I complain.

“Have you thought about what you are going to do in the future?”, he questions.

“No, I have no idea yet. At first, I felt like everything in my life was already figured out, definitely to some extent. Now, it is all gone within the past few days. It takes me around 20 years to figure all that out. How can I make that kind of decision again just in a few days? It is not fair. I have been drowning in my thoughts for the past couple of days. I couldn’t fall asleep at night. All the thoughts of what I could, I should, I would be running in my head at 3 AM and when I woke up, it was already half past 12. I am scared that the future that awaits me holds nothing but a man full of regret.” I go on.

“Do you ever consider applying for a job here?”, he mentions. 

“You do not understand. Do you forget how the people here are nosy and judgmental? I never wish to settle in this town. I can’t even find a single restaurant that makes decent fried chicken. It does not have a movie theatre. Not to mention, all the shops are closed before 10 pm. It is far from the life I want for myself. No wonder people are stressed and mean here. Apart from this beach, there isn’t a single place to relax in the whole town.” I cry.

“But you do enjoy coming to the library and meeting your friends, don’t you? I know how you love watching the sunset. Teas from the local cafes. Local snacks. Remember how you used to complain about how your tongue was stiff from speaking Burmese instead of Rakhine all day long back in your university? How much you miss this beach?”, he says.

Just like that, when I feel like I am spitting facts, he proves me wrong. Remind me once again how much I love this small town by the beach where I grew up. My love for afternoon tea, eating a big breakfast, long walks by the river, and cosy rainy seasons. This town has shaped me into who I am today. It is in my roots and veins. By the time we stop talking, our coffee cups are empty and the sun is already under the ocean. 

He comments, “We should head back home.”

I get up from the bench. We say goodbye until we meet again next week.