Hello Love,

It’s been months, but it feels like so much longer. I wish there was a way to tell you all the things I never did -- all the things you’ll never hear. But you were everything to me.

You always let me in -- you were always open late, and you don’t know how much that meant to me. You had what I needed. You kept me on my toes, introducing me to things I never thought I would try, like strawberries and quark (but they go together almost as well as you and I, don’t they?). I came to you on my worst days and my best. You saw me come undone, and helped in your small way to put me back together, with all the love one person could give, in a tiny, warm cup. Because it was a hard time, and I was just figuring things out.

I could be anyone when I was with you. I was adventurous, and I was predictable. I could come to you, sit in a comfortable, quiet corner, surrounded by your heavenly aroma, and just disappear. I would fade into your background, like another painting on the wall, or a cushion on the cold leather couch. But then you let me get loud, too. I could throw my head back and laugh with wild abandon, along with all the people I came to love. You always treated them so sweetly too. Everyone else would stare as I laughed, but you just let me be. Thank you for that.

Your outlets were always open for business, and your bathrooms were always cleaned to a sparkle. You were more put together than I’ll ever be. And I’m sorry for spilling on your tables and chairs, but it was bound to happen.

You taught me to love solitude -- to revel in the moments I spent with just myself and your incredible coffee. I treasure those afternoons I spent alone with you in the dimly lit silence, all your unplugged covers, acoustic and jazzy, playing in the background. I wish I could take off on my bike in the middle of the day, without a word to anyone about where I’m going, and ride to your open doors. I wish I could still look at your espresso machines, tall and grand, grinding and gurgling, and pretend they were time machines. We would transcend time and space on those days together.

I was so far from home. Everything I knew was a million miles away. You must have known -- I’m sure the bad accent and sometimes complete loss for words gave me away. And I can’t thank you solely for this, but you helped me find home again, in a way that I didn’t expect. In the strange new world I was in, the one to which you belong, I found home in the people we spend each day with ... and in the most perfect cup of hot chocolate -- all those extra chocolate chips in foamy, warm milk was by far the quickest and cleverest way to my heart, by the way.

I knew from the start we couldn’t be together forever. I knew it wouldn’t last. Maybe you weren’t aware -- you probably don’t notice I’m gone. You might not miss me.

But I don’t care.

I can’t promise I’ll ever see you again. But your dark roast will forever stain my favorite shirt and my time with you and your sometimes shocking bills will forever be etched into my heart. You left your mark on me.

Thank you for everything,

my bittersweet friend.