I knew of her since I was little, but we first really met in high school.
We didn’t spend much time together, to be honest. She just made appearances when a group of us would hit a diner together after school, summer mornings at IHOP, a weekend visit to Friendly’s before seeing a movie.
She’d quietly show up without any fanfare. Sometimes disappearing before conversation waned, other times she’d linger at the table even as the rest of us made our way out.
It was college before we got to know each other well.
Our relationship began in earnest just before I turned 19 years old. That Fall she was a gorgeous deep hazelnut, meeting me in the campus cafeteria each morning for breakfast.
She knew how to turn heads back then. She even managed to turn mine.
The frigid New England winter came, and she faded to a sweet cinnamon. We’d meet over a bowl of cereal in my tiny dorm room. I had a huge collection of options even then: Life, Special K, Peanut Butter Crunch, Golden Grahams. Not much made me happier those days, then my Best Friend and a bowl of my favorite food group.
We spent quite a bit of quality time together that first year. I loved it when it was just the two of us, sneaking into the library to study on our own.
It didn’t take long before I had to pay my own tuition, so I began to work more hours, different jobs.
She began to show a bitterness. At times? Downright cold. Our visits were often rushed.
There were a few years there where I didn’t appreciate her as much as I should have. I kind of…just used her. For that, I am embarassed.
But then I grew up.
We reconnected. Lingered together again.
Her complexion became creamier with age. She was a bit sweeter. A mildness that suited us both.
I’d catch a whiff of her perfume in the breeze when she wasn’t around, and genuinely smile. Perk up. I knew we were ‘us’ again.
Now, we live in harmony. I connect with her every day. My heart races when I see her coming my way.
She’s there for me in the morning, keeping me company in a quiet house. She’s the first thing to touch my lips in the morning, to encourage me, to give me the strength to face what I do each day.
In the afternoon, I feel empty without her. She comes to me without complaint, appeasing my appetite.
She maintains her modesty despite my neediness for her presence in my life.
My yearning for her is as strong as her desire to please me.
She fills my heart when she fills my belly.
And on days like today, when I am alone with my kids doing a long road trip, with likely a sleepless night and low tolerance level for tomfoolery, she warmly smiles at me.
Together? We can do anything.
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This post was in response to The Lightning & The Lightning-Bug Flicker of Inspiration Prompt.
Food. It plays a vital role in all our lives. It not only nourishes our bodies and keeps us from…well, dying, but it also serves as a source of comfort, joy, solace, and memory. This week’s prompt is all about making your reader hungry. Write a story (or nonfiction post) that centers around some kind of food or a meal.
I consume more coffee than anything else. Since a cup contains beans, sugar and dairy? I consider it a food. The most important food group there is, quite frankly.
I have coffee every day. I hunger for it, always. I savor it. I appreciate the different flavors, blends, frothy concoctions.
My typical routine is a cup of Dunkin’ Donuts Original Blend grounds made in my Keurig in the morning, then a 1/2 regular 1/2 decaf mix I make at home after lunch. One sugar, a bit of Coffee Mate powder so it stays hot. At Starbucks? Tall vanilla soy latte. After dinner at a restaurant? Decaf cappuccino with skim milk.
It is more than just a drink. It is a cup of sanity.
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