It started off innocent. I had no idea what I was getting into. It became all that I wanted all through the day and the night.
It began on the date of our first night together. I had never met something so taxing and tough before. I tried preparing myself by the educated methods of breathing, drinking water, and everything I could, but nothing seemed to calm my nerves.
‘What a night it would be’, I thought to myself as I scanned through as many as fifty different emotions in my head. I thought it might be the dress I was wearing – giving too much away for the first night, so I changed into something more comfortable, I went with stripes.
I felt a little nauseous at the thought of how it was going to go, I could have vomited but when is that ever a good sign? I plugged my phone into the speakers and put on some music. Serenading myself, I swayed across the room, trying to get into the vibe.
I shuffled through the bed sheets, and shuffled a pen between my fingers to satisfy my fidgety arousals. I even considered calling it off or delaying it claiming I was unwell or anything of the sort – that seemed like an easy way out. Instead, I ended up calling my friend. You know how they say misery loves company; I thought I would get some decent advice apart from the usual ‘stay calm, just be yourself, and everything will be alright’.
I heard attentively while she suggested ways to go around it. She gave me tips – it could be the lighting, maybe the music, or that I should add a little energy to the room and everything. I considered it too.
I sat down and stared into the light, I went online and looked for ways to prepare myself for the night – and I saw it! I decided to go for it. I walked out and looked for the most aesthetic cups. I laid out a box and the sugar jar. I blended everything as the site suggested, and there it was – a steamy, lip smacking cup of coffee.
It looked so inviting; I carried it over to my table and sat staring into the table light. There lay my books for the next day’s exam along with all of my friend’s advice. With my hair in a bun, and my most comfortable striped pyjamas on – I flipped through the pages of my tenth grade science textbook with a spirit I would say I never had before.
It was addictive, I relied on it time and again, and there was my life in front of my eyes – a lifelong partner in all times – happy, sad, bored, not bored, no reason at all! Just the kind of thrill and commitment I needed in my life – an obsession with hot cups of coffee, any time of the day.