Coffee, A Love Story

Dear Java,



I think you know that I love you.  The truth is, I didn’t at first.  I think someone had me try a cup of you in college to get through an “all nighter.”  It was only later that I realized most “all nighters” were for lazy people who only studied last minute.  But, they said you’d get me through it and get me through it you did.  However, at first, I didn’t like the taste of you.  You were bitter.  You tasted how I guessed a jar full of cigarettes might or a jar full of pennies.  Gross.


But, much like love blossoming during an arranged marriage, you surprised me.  One day you tasted better.  And then the next and the next and the next.  The same thing happened with alcohol.  I remember trying one of my father’s beers as a kid and thinking, “YUK!  How do people drink this crap?  What idiots.”  But, my love grew there too.  You, though, Coffee, you are special.  You always will be.


Obscene, isn’t it?


Coffee, you became an inextricable part of my life.  I’d wake up and I couldn’t wait to have you.  I’d fire up the coffee machine and just the smell of you made me feel good.  I’ve tried all your different brands and blends – italian coffee, espresso, spanish coffee, Starbucks, and just about everything from Trader Joe’s.  I like the Trader Joe’s version of you -specifically- because they make you grind it up yourself and somehow that makes me feel closer to you.  It’s intimate — the grinding of your own bean.


Sometimes you come with a friend.  Your friends are always so nice and lovely.  They never make me feel bad about myself, only good.  Sometimes you bring a warm bagel for the company.  A warm bagel, fresh out of the oven, it goes down feeling like it’s going to cover your insides with an expensive duvet.  As travel insurance, I take a couple of sips of you to make sure everything is nice and toasty for the ride.  You make it comfortable like flying in Business Class.  Other times, it’s a piece of coffee cake that stops by with you.  Coffee cake – a hint of your flavor with a halter top of confectioner’s sugar and a spongy, yellow cake bottom, all run through with cinnamon.  (Phew, it’s a miracle you’re not illegal in some bible belt states.)  Sometimes you come simply with just a slice of rye bread shimmering through with a rush of caraway seeds.  Rye is the tabula rasa to your complexity.  She’s the super model with a brain; she’s like a personal UN convoy meet and great with Angelina Jolie and I know that you like to visit with her from time to time.  I’m just happy that I get to join.



Even with all of that, all of those good times – still – things must end.  You see, you’ve got a hold of me.  It’s a suffocation of the heart that’s leading me to believe that I can’t make decisions without you.  You’re controlling me and while I love you, I don’t like the feeling.  To quote one of those beautiful, cowboyish, gays that ride up there in the mountains…



I’ve tried before.  There was that time I participated in that sailing trip around the San Juan islands.  Day three without coffee caused me to scream at a young, ginger-haired boy, “Just grab the feckin’ sail, kid.  It’s not rocket, feckin’ science.  Just grab the bloody sail and pull.”  The boy grabbed the sail and the ship was righted.  Of course, much like a needle scratching on a record at a very good dance party, the minute I finished my tirade, the wind subsided.  The captains of the boat and the other crew members turned to look at me.  Their eyes said, “Did you just kick the baby Jesus?  You realize that boy has the soul of a lamb and the eyes of a crying puppy and you just yelled at him??!!”  The captains pulled over the ship and got me “cowboy coffee” from Canadian customs…because no one could take another outburst from uncaffeinated me.  I swirled  my cowboy coffee, which is just coffee grinds straight in a cup of hot water and go, and I could literally feel the monster lurching out of my forehead slowly recede into that darker place inside of me.  (If you’re curious, it’s down near my a**hole.)  That’s where he lives now.  That’s where he remains – deep, inside.  He says, it’s quiet down there.


So, you see beautiful, angel, coffee-love, we are hurting each other.  Well, I don’t know how in the feck I’m hurting you, but you are definitely hurting me.  It’s time to show you who -just who- is the master of her own domain.  And yes, if this were a Seinfeld episode I’d outlast them all.  Even if the coffee version of John F Kennedy Jr were to swoop in and wrap me up in a frothy embrace.


Junior, is that you?


I will best you, coffee.  I think this distance will make us stronger.  When we do come back together, I won’t need you in that crazy way that makes everyone uncomfortable and you’ll have a little more respect for me.  You know, for being without you for so long.


When the time is right, we will meet again.  It will be wholesome.  It will be dignified.  It will be glorious.  As they say in the “self help” business, “When you love something, set it free.  If it comes back to you…then you are to be its slutty, little, love slave like Maggie Gyllenhaal was for that 80s actor in that movie where she peed all over the place and carried paper in a very strange fashion.”


Who carries paper like that? Only people who have gone off coffee, that’s who…


Until then, coffee, my muse.  Until then.


Much love,


Sweet Mother



Sweet Mother is updated daily-ish.  If you’d like to receive an email when new content is published, simply click the “follow” link at the top of the blog.



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Photo creds:

sin-coffee, coffee-close, coffee-press, coffee-man, maggie


34 thoughts on “Coffee, A Love Story

  1. SM,
    Kudos for:
    1. You posting about coffee,
    2. You trying to cut down coffee (good luck),
    3. Posting a picture of the excellent movie Secretary.
    Le Clown

  2. How funny you should post about coffee. I’ve never had a coffee addiction, but I am now suspecting that I have CREATED a coffee addiction, in that, I now… “really really want” a cup at a specified time every morning.

    Oh flippin’ well.

    You make it sound so good. So naughty. So Fifty Shades if that darn book didn’t have an airhead Virgin main character.

    Anyway, maybe it’s time for coffee #2. It’s just a small cup. A crema, my Tassimo calls it :)

    Good luck!

    1. What a great comment, Sarah. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. I – completely – have a coffee addiction. I will break it and then return to it in a more dignified manner. LOOOOOOOL. this is what going off something will do, make you want it even more. anyway, go and have another cup. it will make me very happy if you do. i will live vicariously! and thank you for reading. much love, sm

    1. i so understand you, little bot. i so understand. have a sip or two for me. i’ll be back in no time, me thinks. i can’t leave her. and she knows it. loooool. and thank you for reading. all the best, sm

    1. that, lauren, is exactly how i plan to go back to coffee! so, i don’t get coffee re-dependent. i made it though yesterday without – a few sips and some green tea. we shall see what today holds! lol. much love, sm

  3. I haven’t had coffee in years, man I miss it. I do have the caffeine monkey on my back in the form of tea. I can easily hit the wall with caffeine. Then I do what you are, I quit for a time and go back. I feel you pain dear friend. Good luck!

  4. Wow, good luck. I love coffee and I put cream in mine, the real stuff. I thought I read somewhere now it’s supposed to be “good” for you, the coffee not the cream. But seriously, moms, good luck with getting that caffeine monkey off your back!!

    1. ok, the whole real cream thing… well, it was a good descriptor and i tried not to picture coffee too much, but – sigh – near impossible. i still wanted it. loool. after a few days, it should pass. in the meantime, i decided to write “coffee porn.” much love, briges…and hey, your link looks like it works now. did you get it fixed? xo, sm

      1. Here’s what’s weird. It’s just on certain blogs and yours is one of them. If you click on my name on Weebs, Clown’s and some others, it goes straight to my blog. On others, such as yours, it goes to my gravatar. Wtfeck???

  5. One cup a day for me. But even that causes withdrawal symptoms on days when it’s delayed (like those darn fasting cholesterol tests). I don’t want to know how long the headaches would last if I tried to give up even that one cup!

  6. I don’t think… Nope, couldn’t do it but I’m seriously impressed that you’re going cold turkey Mum! And even more impressed that you fessed up to it in public. You are one strong lady. :D

  7. cutting down on coffee is something i had to do and it was difficult..
    Sweet Mom i hope you can cut down on it too…
    it took all my energy… but funny thing when i thought im not longer fighting my addiction i automatically stopped having so much of coffee…don’t know how ;) :P
    your letter to coffee reminded me of myself ….
    can totally relate to this post… i still find myself having 3 cups of coffee sometimes and telling myself “Dude take it slow”

  8. I gave up coffee a long time ago, when I was pregnant, and stayed off it while nursing. It wasn’t hard to give up because, somehow, in spite of drinking LOTS of the stuff, caffeine wasn’t an issue…until I wanted to renew the relationship. For the past 25 years, caffeine, especially in tea, makes me violently ill. Fortunately, I can tolerate the amount in decaf, since the scent of freshly brewed coffee is totally luscious, and CHOCOLATE! Yay! xoM

  9. At one point in college it got so progressively bad that I was drinking about ten cups a day. I was like a chain smoker, but with java instead of Marlboro’s. I quit cold turkey to get myself off the stuff and had withdrawal headaches for 3 days. T_T

    Now I keep it at a cup a day and life is beautiful. <3

    She is a cruel mistress at times, but… I just can't let her go. She's good to me far more often than she's bad. And I can't write without a cup in hand.

  10. They say coffee is harder to give up than crack. I don’t know who “they” is and I can’t attest to hard it is to give up crack but, I have given up coffee twice. Both times I was begging for someone to put me out of my misery and quite frankly the only reason they didn’t was because there was money to be made on the raffle tickets people were buying as they lined up for the opportunity to put me down. It is really hard. I wish you luck and would suggest sending Wifesy on a sabbatical for her own protection.
    By the way, I am drinking coffee again. Damn I love the stuff!

  11. Um, I suppose now wouldn’t be the best time to mention that I don’t drink coffee? Well, I do, but only iced and only if it’s got syrups and stuff and tastes like dessert and then only once in a blue moon because it’s too goddamn expensive ($5 for a cuppa joe that’s mostly ice sort of pisses me off, actually).

    I got lucky that I never got hooked, but mostly it’s cuz I can’t stand the bitter taste. I love java dessert-ey things, though. Coffee-flavored stuff is nummy. And since I rarely drink it, when I do, it seems like I’m up for three days because the caffeine REALLY kicks in! I don’t get any caffeine from other sources, since I don’t drink tea hardly ever, don’t eat much chocolate these days (sadly) and sodas aren’t on the menu anymore ether.

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