Dear Coffee,

We all remember our firsts, don’t we? "First times" have been emphasized to mean so much in our society today, whether it is a first kiss, first time driving by yourself, or as I will be reminiscing about, my first cup of you, joe. I remember the first time you touched my lips: I was lying with my mom in bed, around age 8, and asked to take a sip of her coffee. She warned me, oh did she warn me. “You’re not going to like it.” But being the defiant child I was, I wanted to be an adult, and I took a sip….which I promptly spit out. “How could anyone drink this? It’s bitter, reeks, and doesn’t taste like chocolate, so gross,” I thought.


Fast-forward about 7 years. High school. This was when I believed that all kids started drinking coffee. I did not want to become one of those kids. I did not want to be addicted to a DRUG (*gasp*). But soon, the early mornings and late nights began to take their toll. “Maybe I’ll just try one cup in the morning,” I told myself.

Soon, those one cups began to grow on me, and the taste got to be a little better. I started asking my mom to stop by Starbucks or Dunkin on the way home from school to stop by for an extra pick me up. She started to notice the gradual change around the same time she bought a Keurig machine for our kitchen. (So really I think my own mother is to blame for this addiction right?)

High school ends (*cue in that horrible Vitamin C Graduation song*) and my preparations for college begin. Of course the first thing that was on my list of concerns was whether or not my dorm allow a Keurig machine in it? What would I do if it didn’t? Luckily for me, not only did my dorm room allow Keurig machines (#blessed) but my campus also had a Starbucks right on campus, it was like they catered to me for my addiction to you. I arrive on campus, Keurig and 100s of K-cups in tow. My new college friends begin to grow concerned. “Hey uhm, you’ve already had four cups of coffee and it’s 2 p.m., do you have a huge paper due tomorrow or something?” I could hear the concern in their voices. “Nah this is just my normal daily intake. A few more and I’ll be good it’s literally fine.” They began to grow used to my very noticeable addiction, but clearly continued to judge. I could hear the whispers as I hugged my Keurig for heating that fifth cup of you, coffee, on a particularly chilly day. I could sense the stares as I stood in the Starbucks line, making everyone late for wherever we needed to be. But they just don’t get it. I need you.


Don’t get me wrong I’ve tried to wean myself off this dependency on you, but why should I? Studies have recently shown that you, coffee, can actually be linked to longevity. (Take that Satan.) So, people asking me to stop drinking so much coffee because they’re “concerned for my health” or that it’s “bad for me,” I’ll prove them wrong. Now I don’t drink the sugary stuff, just the hard stuff, straight up. And if I continue to do this, I’ll just outlive them, because maybe I’ll be the one laughing in 100 years as I’m drinking my fifth cup of coffee for the day (but probably not as I’m sure they’re very healthy people as well).