I think one of the greatest times in the world is just sitting over a cup of coffee with someone, from a stranger to loved one. Not everyone vibes off that kind of experience, but it is so special to me. Just wiling away the hours talking about life, politics, whatever you may land on.
But I don’t think any coffee experience compares to the ones I have with my love. At the inception of our friendship, coffee’s delicious aromas coated our conversations. Whether it was natural Ethiopian iced coffees or single origin Columbian espressos, coffee played a quiet but warm third party to our budding relationship. In the beginning, we both had an admittedly low knowledge of anything coffee. We could tell the difference between a good cup and a bad one, but that was about it. But that’s the beautiful thing about coffee and relationships, you can learn them in time. The more coffee dates we went on, the more we learned about coffee and about each other. My Cubanita had been raised on cafecitos, and I hadn’t appreciated anything remotely coffee-related until I started in on Starbucks Frappucinos (c’mon, we all did it). She was fiery though she was small, and I was more quite, more reserved. As our coffees cooled, the flavors changed, and we began to learn more, go deeper. We learned of each other’s pasts, of our hopes for our futures.
I find coffee to be a beautiful thing because I feel I’ve gotten to know so many people with a simple, steaming cup on the table between us. But I find it to be the most beautiful when it sits there between Kat and I. I think that as the years pass, I’ll have many iced coffees in the summer months and many warm lattes in the wintry days, and I’ll get to know my love even more in those slow days with just a cup of joe keeping us company.
But I don’t think any coffee experience compares to the ones I have with my love. At the inception of our friendship, coffee’s delicious aromas coated our conversations. Whether it was natural Ethiopian iced coffees or single origin Columbian espressos, coffee played a quiet but warm third party to our budding relationship. In the beginning, we both had an admittedly low knowledge of anything coffee. We could tell the difference between a good cup and a bad one, but that was about it. But that’s the beautiful thing about coffee and relationships, you can learn them in time. The more coffee dates we went on, the more we learned about coffee and about each other. My Cubanita had been raised on cafecitos, and I hadn’t appreciated anything remotely coffee-related until I started in on Starbucks Frappucinos (c’mon, we all did it). She was fiery though she was small, and I was more quite, more reserved. As our coffees cooled, the flavors changed, and we began to learn more, go deeper. We learned of each other’s pasts, of our hopes for our futures.
I find coffee to be a beautiful thing because I feel I’ve gotten to know so many people with a simple, steaming cup on the table between us. But I find it to be the most beautiful when it sits there between Kat and I. I think that as the years pass, I’ll have many iced coffees in the summer months and many warm lattes in the wintry days, and I’ll get to know my love even more in those slow days with just a cup of joe keeping us company.