I Invited My Younger Self For Coffee Poem by Za7ra Sulaiman

I invite my younger self for coffee.
She's 15 minutes early, and I'm 30 minutes late.
She asks me how I'm doing,
And I don't know how to answer.

She stirs her drink like she's searching for truth,
Eyes wide with dreams she hasn't yet lost.
She tells me about the books she wants to write,
The places she swears she'll go,
The love she's sure will last forever.

I smile at her innocence,
At the girl who still believes the world is kind.
I don't tell her about the storms ahead,
The nights she'll cry, the dreams that will burn,
The way her body will betray her.

Instead, I take her hand,
Feel the warmth, the strength she doesn't yet know she has.
"I'm doing okay, " I finally say.
"Not in the way you imagined, but in a way that still matters."

She studies me, searching for something familiar,
And I wonder if she recognizes herself in me.
Would she be proud? Would she be afraid?
Would she understand that we made it, just not the way she planned?

The coffee grows cold, but we stay a little longer,
Two versions of the same girl,
Bridging the years with quiet understanding.
And when she finally leaves, she doesn't look back—
Because she knows, somehow,
That I will be okay.