Coffee With Love

Publicat în categoria English

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She used to wake up with a coffee offered to her in bed together with the most charming, sympathetic smile of all that seamed to say :’yes…it is difficult to be you! It is difficult to wake up every day before your biological hour with all the cells of your body screaming for just a little bit more of the warmth of the bed, of that security of his cuddle…of that life before (and after) office hours…How life is strange! She had never had that feeling during week-ends when she was always waking up before him with the unmistakable excitement of a brand new day waiting to be explored…she must have probably hated her job!

But if there is one thing that is absolutely certain in life that is that NOTHING lasts forever…not even misfortunes…even they pass away in the end…and in the aftermath of a big sorrow we wake up one day feeling less frail, less lonely and wishing despite our knowing better to start all over again. We tend to think that happiness is too quick to pass because we want it to stay forever, because once we have grasped one single breath of that air of joy, that fills our lungs with such distinct a feeling of being ALIVE…NO! we are not letting this go so easily! And guess what? After a while the air in your lungs gets rotten and you HAVE to breath out otherwise you suffocate.

It is difficult to let go of old habits, as it is difficult to accept the end of a relationship… because, in the end, what is a habit if not a relationship with yourself, a way you interact with the world and how you position yourself in the universe…

…being a coffee drinker had not been a simple preference in her case, it had been an IDENTITY. It shaped up her day, it counted the cadence of office hours passing – morning before work even started, after lunch…and the guilty little expresso at 4 o’clock…the one that she shouldn’t have had…but…hey! we live only once! It had been part of her style…revealing just a fragrance of the suppressed passion that inhabited her…silent witness of her boredom with a life of constraints, with the politically correctness, with 8 hours of work per day (at the best!)…a protest of a deeper, maybe more authentic sense of self that was given no place to manifest itself…

She used to wake up with a coffee offered to her…and this was all in the past: the coffee, the smile, the comfort of a relationship that she had thought ‘the one’, and in the end…maybe even that GIRL that she used to be did not exist anymore…somehow, somewhere, in the torment of all those changes that she did not invite or like…she had learned to be a WOMAN.

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