Dear Coffee,

There is nothing better than a cup of you to start your morning. You could be a cappuccino fresh off the La Marzocco, a straight espresso with a drop of honey, or even a simple cup of Joe, black, to begin my day.

Maybe it's the grumble of the machine as it shoots out hot steam upon a bed of your grounds, or the drizzle of that fresh you falling into the pot, but there's something about you I just can't quit.

You're the nectar of life. You're what most people reach for when they wake up in the morning or need a pick-me-up in the middle of the day. Let's not forget the decaf night cap after a nice dinner or a way to settle myself before hitting the hay.

There is a whole world within a cup of you. I can experience other parts of the world without leaving your kitchen. Your beans are grown in Colombia, Kenya, Guatemala, Indonesia, and elsewhere. It's tended to with love and care, and then it's shipped out throughout the world and somehow ends up right in my home.

You aren't just a drink; you're a culture.

Think of all the combinations you can make! A hazelnut latte or an americano with cream. An iced mocha or a cafe au lait.

Coffee, you could say I have a love affair with you. I grew up on Seattle coffee culture, but my true love for the jet fuel was fostered when I studied abroad in Italy.

Every morning I would stop by the cafe on my way to class to pick up a cappuccino or cafe latte. The delight in the Italian version of you comes from your simplicity. Espresso, milk and foam are all that make up a cappuccino. You come in one size and don't require sugar. Your beauty comes from your modesty.

But what really made me fall in love with Italian you? The macchiato, which translates to "spotted." An espresso which just a dot of milk to ensure I take in your bold flavors and silky notes.

Oh, coffee, if it weren't for you, I don't know that I could be myself. You give me energy, you give me happiness, you make me enjoy the simple parts of. If it weren't for you, I don't know what I would do.