Dear Coffee: An Open Love Letter 

Dear Coffee,

Oh where do I begin? I suppose  I should start by saying that I rejoice in the fact that there is a National Day to celebrate your awesome, bitter, amazingness.

You’re everything a person could want. You’re hot, you’re cold; you’re bitter and sweet…my emotions are constantly running away with me with every sip I take. I love that I can enjoy you in bed, and you are so good to me when I’m covered in covers and listening to the rain or enjoying the rise of the sun from my window. I love how perfect you look sitting on the edge of my bathtub while I shave my legs and I love that I can take you with me wherever I go.

I love that, instead of combating the delicious taste of peppermint after just brushing my teeth, you compliment the minty flavor. Maybe I’m weird and the only one who enjoys this, but after having that “oh no! I just brushed my teeth and I haven’t finished my coffee” moment,  it’s really pleasant to know that the taste isn’t completely ruined…like when you accidentally drink orange juice right after brushing. Worst taste, ever. I’m so happy you’d never do that to me.

You’re the perfect date. There’s no pressure with you and we get to make out all the time. No one understands the way my mouth works like you do. I love that we go on the most romantic of dates, any time, any where. It’s the best feeling in the world to know that you can always be right by my side or in my hands.

I love the way you taste before and after every meal; you’re the perfect bouquet of variable tastes for my palette. I think about a cold slice of pizza, pairing it with you and I get the chills, and the chills give me the feels.; a true match made in taste-bud heaven. I didn’t appreciate this combination for some time, but you really elevate things, even plain pizza.

My parents may have called her crazy, but the day my caffeine addicted grandmother put coffee-milk in my bottle, I knew I’d gone to toddler heaven. Those were the days: coffee-milk and peanut butter sammiches* so thick I could barely swallow. I didn’t care. I was three, in nothing more than a diaper and relishing my first handful of caffeine buzzes while watching Ricky Lake with Audrey. Life was grand then and I had no idea just where that buzz was going to take me.

I love that the only time I get aggravated with you, is when I’ve spilled a very important drop that I desperately needed on the probably white or light something I’ve picked out to wear. It’s not because I fear a stain, it’s because I’m sad I wasted a splash of your acerbic deliciousness.

You take my writing where it needs to be. I can barely elaborate on this without tearing up. Thanks to you, 2a.m. never looked so good, regardless of the chaotic mess my room is in, how horrific my hair looks, or with two-day, smudged and smattered mascara that my glasses feebly hide. The words had to get down and you helped me do it, you wonder-lover.

You really get me going, wind my clock, turn my gears, get my juices flowing, all of it. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you’re the best relationship I’ve ever had.

i just wanted to take this time to thank you for being you. I hope we never break up.

My empty cup is waiting.

Truly and Forever Yours,
TiffanyJo, an individual and an addict.



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