A Love Letter- Dear Coffee, it’s Me.

I love coffee. I love all fucking coffee, I can’t even pretend that I don’t. I love coffee with cookies and coffee with pie. Coffee with cigarettes, in the morning, and also at night. If I could just drink coffee, instead of sleep, I would totally make the switch. Caffeine over everything. Over everyone. There is something comforting about a beverage that holds you through everything. I get coffee on the way to work, before and after funerals, when I’m awake late at night, when I need to go to any holiday gathering, or family gathering… Actually any human gathering I am required to take part in will always need coffee.

It’s eight thirty at night. I just used Justin’s Kuerig to make myself a delicious breakfast blend with sugar and light cream. It is perfect and I say that not just because it’s coffee but because it tastes much like I remember my first cup of coffee tasting. It tastes new, surprising, full. It’s familiar and refreshing all at once. I want to make it last forever.

My first cup of coffee was drank on the grass behind an old friends house in pinardville. She was star gazing as if she knew anything about them and I was chain smoking cigarettes with my new found love. Late at night or early in the morning, whichever you prefer, this was the first time I felt magic. Never before had I been in love but this. This is what I assumed it would be like. 

I drank a pot of coffee to my face and smoked a pack of cigarettes to my lungs. I felt fucking mighty. Why did I ever not drink this? I wanted it to replace the blood in my veins.

Now that love is a little different. I take it for granted I suppose. It’s JUST coffee now most days but tonight for some reason- tonight it is that warm blanket, a mother’s hug, the moons last kiss goodnight. It is comfort and tastes like beauty. I don’t know if its the blend or what, but it sure does feel like velvet on the tongue.

Coffee always, always and forever. Coffee for eternity. Coffee for the rest of my miserable life.


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