I Believe in Coffee
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I can remember my first sip of coffee. The alluring smell was misleading. I hated the taste of it. It was bitter. It had a certain bite to it that made me cringe. I remember thinking I would never like it, until I was an adult like my dad. It wasn’t until I met his girlfriend that I formed fond memories around the drink.

When I first laid eyes on my dad’s new girlfriend, I thought she was going to ruin my life. She was going to take my dad away from me, like the others had done in the past. She was a doll and I couldn’t blame my dad for falling for her. Her attire was respectable. Her voluminous hair fell almost all the way down to her hips. She was also a self-sufficient businesswoman without any family or obligation-just the city and her job.

I began accepting Julie into my life when she started to take care of my brothers and me. She required a trip to Starbucks at least twice per day. She ordered us drinks when we were standing in line with her. This generosity established her as much more than just “dad’s girlfriend” in my mind. It was nice to be treated by a stranger that I thought I couldn’t trust. I initially assumed that she was only interested in my dad. She proved me wrong. The constant coffee trips made me feel at ease with her involvement in our lives.

Now that I’m in college, my mom and I follow a similar coffee routine. We usually only have a few free hours in the day to spend together so we go to a place where time seems to stand still. When I’m sitting directly across from her, all I can feel is her presence. The chatting people in the background become a blur in the corner of my eye. I have developed a love for the dark wooden two-person tables. I can smell the espresso rising in the steam from my latte. It reminds me of the strong tie I have between coffee and the feeling of being taken care of.

Some of my most current friendships have been made at coffee shops. Nicole and I made the successful transition from familiar faces to friends. After struggling through our early morning classes, the coffee lifts us out of our daze. The location serves as an excuse to avoid splitting off into our rooms alone after lecture. The coffee provides me with the means to form friendships in an unfamiliar place.

It took more than a taste for me to believe in coffee. My dad’s “city life” girlfriend installed a feeling of being nurtured with coffee when I was fifteen. It was through the numerous Starbucks runs that my first impressions of her finally shifted. I appreciated the sweet, simple gifts that she offered us. Now, I use coffee to stay close to my mom and create new friendships. I believe in the power of coffee because it taught me trust and draws me close to the people I care about.

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