My Coffee, my way…

I love my coffee and I love it in a particular way. Thick, creamy, 2 sugars and hot. It has to be just right. But on some mornings I don’t get my own coffee, he does. Its always one sugar,  never two. He knows I have my coffee with two sugars but yet it’s always one. He goes on about how he knows what’s best for me.

He says, “I know you, love…. ”
And I swear it makes me want to leave.

But he stands at my door at exactly 6:30am – every single day -holding two cups of coffee and chocolate doughnuts. That scene should make my heart melt, make me love him. It doesn’t. But I’m an intellectual. I feel with my heart but make decisions with my head. My heart felt nothing but my head knew my heart was being selfish.

He was so very loving. Nothing original and thought of really but u gotta appreciate the man’s effort.

He might not exactly have been the man of my dreams, actually, he most certainly wasn’t. But he did love me, and I simply refuse to be selfish. So I figured, I’d date him for a while. Give a chance to get me out of his system, then I’d continue with my life like nothing ever happened.

You should have seen his face when I told him we could give it a shot, see what happens. He was ecstatic. There’s this way you can catch the excitement in his voice. This way that should be so cute. This way that should make me smile to myself. This way that grits at me in a hugely annoying way… makes me want to claw out my eyes. But I had said I’d give it a shot. So I learned the lines and played my role.

He’d call every night. We’d talk till the minute hand went all the way round. That boyfriend-of-the-year material right there , so why did I never want to pick up? It was always so proper and polite. He’d ask how my day was, how I was. Before he hanged up he’d say he loved me. I wanted to say it back, I really did. But that kind of lie was too cruel, even for me.

His gifts were grand. Rather perfect, really, and there was the problem. Nothing ever spoke to me. Nothing that said he knew me or he even minded that he didn’t.

That night when he called and I just couldn’t bring myself to pick up, I sent it straight to voicemail, feigned to be asleep. Next day, just like clock work, by my door he stood. Coffee and all.

“Morning, love? “He said as he kissed my cheek.
I sat across him and studied his face. It had been two months.
“I can’t do this anymore _I’m sorry but we’re done.”I said as I reached for the sugar.
He looked baffled, like he’d definitely heard wrong.
“Why?” He asked.
Stirring sugar into my coffee,” coz I do two sugars, not one.” – GG

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It does matter, you know that, don’t you?