As an incoming college student, the enrollment process and stress eating occupies a great deal of my time and few things seem to hold my attention at school anymore. At this point, I only go because I need to pass Physics and for some reason really love English. I was given a writing assignment last week to personify an object and as half-alive me chugged my coffee, I thought it was only logical that I contemplated my addiction through a letter from the beverage itself.
Which reminds me, (in the midst of writing an essay for SFSU’s totally fun “directed self-placement” assessment) it’s time for a coffee break.
If you’re at all a coffee addict, you’ll understand my anthropomorphic story below. WARNING: this work my contain punny content!
You were young when you met me, too young for your own good.Oblivious of your affections, you married me to chocolate, a wedding you thought to be so kind and so sweet, that you drank in the romance and savored the flavor of new love. After my divorce, I became bitter. I drowned myself in sorrow and a promiscuous woman named Lucerne Leche- a most dispassionate girl, pale white, and as cold to heart as she was to the touch. She said she grew up on a farm and was looking for adventure in the city. I used her up quickly, leaving her high and dry, and forgot about her as quickly as she came. Feeling like I was fluid, falling, with nothing to anchor me, I found solace in Pot for awhile. But soon enough, my infamous dealer Keurig got into some trouble and I supposed it was time for a change.
When I left Lucerne, a new type of boldness pervaded me. I accepted my dark side and became at peace with my demons. I even bought a new Arabian cologne that matched my new found confidence. I chose the scent after you- after you told me your favorite dance in the Nutcracker ballet was Arabian coffee.
I never planned to grow old with you.
I always thought you deserved better than me. I wore all the brand names to please you-Starbucks, Pete’s, Temple, but none of that mattered because you took me anyway, without judgments, day after day, keeping me within arm’s reach. And that love of your’s, well, it swallowed me whole.
You knew I was bad news, all your friends even said so, and perhaps this is what made me more desirable. Intoxicated by my aroma, you inhaled my scent, becoming more and more alert. Oh my dear, I was like a drug to you. “Happy and alive,” you called the feeling. I’ll never forget the way you laughed, the way you smiled next to me.
We never spoke of it, because in the light, all was well. At night however, you would lay awake, head pounding, heart racing, restless. You’d stay up all night thinking and writing, and pacing, and writing about your thinking. Your mind was buzzing because you couldn’t shake the adrenaline. And when I left the next morning I saw your face, what I had done to you and I simply could not bear it. Your eyes were heavy and your mouth was dry and that pretty little head of yours, struck by a violent migraine.
All because I couldn’t be there for you.
I want you to know that my apologies are sincere and perhaps I should have had more of a filter during our relationship; maybe that would have helped me get clean.
But as it turns out, you my darling, are the one who needs to get clean.
I was your drug of choice and now you must forget about me.
Sincerely, your melancoffee love,