How I Broke Up With Coffee
I met someone else.
All love stories eventually find an ending. And unfortunately, I think this is it for us.
I remember the first time I met you, I was 18, working in a school for an internship and struggled staying awake. One kind teacher introduced you and there you were, in a jar waiting to make friends.
Extremely bitter and barely lukewarm, I remember adding sugar cubes after sugar cubes and I thought I was never ever going to love you. But eventually I did. The next day, I tried again and we slowly became acquainted.
Years passed and I became addicted to you, especially when you were together with my good friend Milk. You were sweater, softer and I couldn’t stop seeing you. I was so confident with you by my side. You were warm and helped me to be more social. Together, we met new friends and I even joined a café so we could hang out more.
I didn’t make the connection right away but every time I saw you Coffee, I ended up rushing to the throne and let my bowel do its thing. It wasn’t pretty.
At 25, my body had enough of my part time drinker/student lifestyle and send me a warning. For months, I was strictly forbidden to see you and I know this is where we started to drift apart.
I met Chicory and even if I was nostalgic of our relationship, I had found someone that was just like you, but didn’t make me sick. It became easier and easier to deal with your absence.
After I got better, I tried to reach out to you but it wasn’t the same. The months of separation had the best of us. It’s not so easy to stay with someone that makes you sick.
I’m sorry but we have to break up. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s not you, it’s me, I can’t continue ignoring my gut feelings. I know it’s for the best.
Take care of yourself.
