Having coffee solo, more often than not, especially over the last year and a half or more, reveals something interesting about couples I've seen having coffee. But I do need to back up before I announce my revelation. This thought was brewing this morning, biking to one of my favourite coffee shops in Toronto. And then on my return home two hours later, popped into my neighbourhood coffee shop for a second cup. You see, this particular shop has the most beautiful, leafy patio tucked away from all the noise of the busy city streets.

It’s on that leafy patio where I usually grab a chair that’s available at a table where a couple is sitting. I then bring the chair to a part of the patio where I can have a leafier view of my surroundings.

Today, though, was a little different than every other day. Perhaps it was the warm, breezy weather, and seeing mainly couples socializing that sparked a feeling of melancholy. Understand, having this deep, pensive poetic feeling shouldn't be frowned upon but celebrated, because it reminds us we're alive, longing for passion.

But here is where I'm heading. I’ve been observing the lives of others’ while at coffee shops for some time. And, at times, I hear their conversations when it gets lively, because I’m an earshot away from them, not intentionally. And here’s the question that popped in my head today while on the patio, taking in the weather.

I wonder if these couples love out of habit?

Now, it didn’t look like they were taking each other for granted sitting across from each other. I do wonder, though, if these couples have embraced their insecurities? That at any moment, either one of them can pick up and leave, and start a new life because of another person? Or just simply go out on their own? But don’t get me wrong, love does last forever, in our memories.

Now, to move this conversation forward to somewhere dreamy. It’s why scent, whether from the aroma of coffee, or our favourite fragrance from someone that showed us love, or from someone that broke into our heart and we tumbled over, can hold us securely in a memory that transports us to another time. Wherever that is, whenever it was, wherever we are, and with whomever or on our own, routinely.