versailec

[versailec]

I love coffee. It’s the first thing I look forward to when I wake from my sleep. I can’t go on a day without drinking coffee. The bare scent and the bitter taste of caffeine gives me a surge of energy that no other drink can do. A coffee while watching the sunrise by the beach, feeling the warm drink and the warm rays of the sun. No matter what situation, a cup of coffee can make my day complete. In those moments I realize, I really do love coffee.

My mother used to complain, scolding me as she goes on with her “Coffee is bad for you,” sentiments and I thought, “Is it still bad if it’s the only thing keeping me sane?” but eventually, she's grown to accept it. Her way of making coffee became my favorite and I’d wake up to her making cups for two. She tolerated this addiction that I thought was never going to end. This was how my mornings turned out for as long as I could remember.

Not until I met you. You are a warm cup of joe that I need to have immediately when I wake. Your presence broke the chain connected to coffee and instead tied it to you. It wasn’t anymore the aroma of the coffee my mother was brewing that awoke me, it became the thought of having to see you make me look forward to the dawn. Coffee was no match to the feeling you gave me. You became the one who kept me sane. The warmth that coffee gave me became the warmth my heart could feel when you talk. Instead of the bitter taste of coffee, it was replaced with the sweet smiles we exchange. Suddenly, coffee wasn’t the best part of my days, it became you.

[versailec]

I talk too much. It’s like my mouth speaks on its own, especially when going on about something so dear to me. My friends have grown immune to it. All they would hear as I go on about new games I discovered, my thoughts on the books and films I’ve read, and my new hyperfixations. My friends never made me felt like they weren’t listening, they just sit and smile and laugh when I stumble upon my words, because, I just talk too much.

I’ve already taken grown used to their usual responses: a “Really?” or an “Ohh,” are some frequently heard from them. I told myself to be grateful, for someone was still willing to listen to me saying whatever. They still chose to listen, didn’t they?

Hence why you surprised me. You didn’t just sit and smile, you actually talked to me. A single “Tell me more,” from you and I found myself fantasizing about what the future holds for us. Would you build me a bookshelf and help me ll it up? Would we set up our computers beside each other and play new games we discover? Would we have movie nights with the cookies we baked together? We should own a pet. I love Yorkies. Maybe name it Rain, too. I had always loved the rain. I used to dance in it when I was a child. Did you know such act symbolizes renewal? The washing away of sins, a chance to start anew. Sounds so bizzare, doesn’t it?

Before I knew it, I was looking for you–any chance I’d get. I’d look for your beautiful eyes and your charming smile, the one that never failed to warm my heart. Are you like this to everyone? Or is this side of you just for me? You don’t know how much I pray that it’s only for me.

I’d say I’m fairly religious. I’ve always believed in God. Sunday masses were always something I looked forward to. I’d listen to the homily with the ear of my heart, finding solace within Father’s words. Church brought me peace. Even more so when you came. I didn’t know if you believed in God. I wasn’t at all aware if you’re religious. Nonetheless, I still prayed for you. They said some words are meant to be unspoken, so, may my prayers speak volume, conveying a connection deeper than what mere words may express. Please, God.

So many instances and so many reasons to like you, yet it all ties to a single moment, one that solidied your place in my heart. Seated next to you, we were enjoying the adobo I cooked, a meal we both loved. As I was going on about how delicious the dish is, I couldn’t help but ask: “Does it ever bother you that I talk too much?” With your mouth half-full, you simply raised your brow and answered: “You do?”

God, let it be him.