Before I start
allow me to ask this question that is not so hard
Is it just me
or every moment in my life depends on my cup of coffee?
well you see
I don't really know how I got crazy
over this drink made up of crushed dark brown beans
it could either make my day really good like breathing in a sweet caramel scent
or just bad as hell which could make me so dehydrated and grumpy
but as time goes by
I realised that not only I feel happy and freshed like cold morning showers
I, too, always put the blame for every shitty reasons over it
when i cry at night missing mom out of a sudden
you have no idea how heavy i feel of the burden
i would end up saying
"im just being over emotional, its probably the americano"
when really though,
i miss my mom for too long already
and i just need that warm hug
or
when i lie down in my room and imagine some romantic dialogs in my head
as if before I was even born, i have once been dead
somewhere in someplace (you know like the movie I origins)
it would even make me feel like ive lived the moments i imagined
and again i will finally say
"maybe it was just that cup of latte"
things got crazier when i started to write
stories and poems
everytime i feel like an idea is kicking in where my hands types so damn fast
as if im being possessed (trust me ive been sober all my life)
it would get really weird where i can go up to the point of crying while writing
because the stories i write is just so real and i could feel every single touch i touched
and as usual, i would go
"damn, it was really concentrated. guess it was a good ass macchiato"
including,
this one fine evening
i remember i was sitting
in my fav coffee shop in bukit jelutong
alone just doing nothing
accompanied by a good book and ofcourse my essentials
phone, notebook and a pencil
and i saw this person walking in through the door i rarely use
red tshirt, shorts and a rayban slipping into electric blue birkenstock
i have no idea how it caught my attention
probably he just looked a little cool
i was sipping my vanilla latte
but for the first time ever
how my coffee tasted didnt matter
what was important was this particular person sitting across the cafe
who didnt realise i was putting up a stare
i swear to god my innocent eyes has never seen anything as beautiful as this one
but it didnt allow me for long
he had to walk out too fast
and so i packed my stuffs cause without his presence
everything in the cafe suddenly seems so wrong as if it had lost its essence
but when i was at the counter to pay for my drink
the cashier told me
"oh dear lady! the gentlemen in red paid for it, he even left you a wink"
im not saying its true but it might
be the cup of coffee cause i couldnt sleep that night
weeks after weeks
and the next thing i realised
i was already looking at his lips
right infront of me
and it reminded me of the coffee beans i use to hold handful
crooked but just perfect to make me feel calm
we would always go for coffee dates
i love how he would always request for my latte art to be made heart shaped
the smell of his shoulders i always lie my head on
reminds me of the aroma i had always breathe in when i open my pack of processed coffee at home in the morning
the way he would smirk and smile
had always reminded me of fresh brewed Omar Bernal
so authentic
the feeling of holding his hands
was as warm as holding my favourite coffee mug
and his eyes
oh his eyes
oh his eyes
oh his eyes
oh his eyes
oh my eyes
was swollen
and my heart
was broken
when he had to leave
so sudden
and he was gone
leaving me with no escape or reverse button
and i still blame my coffee up till today
if only i had ordered cappucino the other day
i wouldnt be distracted by the lips of that stranger
if only i didnt accidentally add in sugar in my vanilla latte
i wouldnt be falling for the sweet words of this heartbreaker
if only i had quit coffee and just drink water
i wouldnt be writing this and healing myself here.
i guess i should just stop blaming the things i love
and hurting myself trying to lose them
all at once.
