I made the mistake and got involved with an ex of mine today.
I remember getting the craving at 8am, at my first job. I tried to deny it. What good would it do? The high would be amazing, but then I’d spend the next five hours regretting any contact. My anxiety would kick in and I would feel lost, confused, and a little dizzy…but I did it anyway. Not at work (I have some discipline). On my fifteen-minute break.
At Coffee Bean.
I walked through the haze of my own ignorance right up to the counter and ordered a small (I usually say “tall” and feel like the douchey Starbucks-will-always-be-#1 customer) mocha latte – CAFFEINATED. Oh, the horrible, horrible decision. Caffeine and I go back to high school, when I worked at Dunkin Donuts (west-coasters, don’t even attempt to relate). He was always there, taunting me with his coconut and cinnamon flavors. One morning, we even tried a french vanilla, which is vanilla AND hazelnut mixed (I miss being young and crazy). Before I was legal to vote [for democrats], I knew I was addicted, and in love.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying our relationship was perfect. I tried ending the affair senior year, when I couldn’t take my heart fluttering every minute of the day. Then, when I graduated high school, I got a job at the Starbucks on campus. It was there I realized I could have the purest of caffeine after waiting an [exotic] four minutes, only to s-l-o-w-l-y press down the handle, releasing the tension and relieving myself of thirst. After that, I couldn’t deny our chemistry any longer. I now understood the phrase, “Once you go french [press], you forget the rest[ch].”
Needlessly to say, caffeine and I had an unhealthy relationship for a good four years. When I moved to Los Angeles, I was a free woman. I ditched that dark, savory substance for a lighter addiction (iced tea). Yet today, for some reason, I felt as if I could TAKE the reunion. I won’t fall in love, again. I know what damage caffeine did to me. My mama didn’t raise no liquid-drug-addicted fool.
(Actually, my mama did raise a liquid-drug-addicted fool, especially in french-press-french-vanilla form.)
To conclude this story, I not only had ONE shot of sweet, sensual mocha, but I decided a second round of acquainted love would suffice when caffeine offered himself to me at 3pm…only this time in caramel macchiato form (yeeehaw!). Then, my life was over. My Wednesday turned into a muddled cloud of exhaustion, depression, and anxiousness. It even felt like I decided to replace my brain with Butterbean’s child. A reminder of my poor decision-making skills, and lack of will power.
So ladies, don’t take back your exes. No matter how hot and smooth they are. They just want to get in your mouth, and leave you depressed (with a fucking headache).