Adult != Coffee

I just reached a point in my life. A defining point. One I realize as I write this will be a day I look back on in the future as a marker for when something began. I told my wife yesterday “this coffee taste amazing”. And I didn’t mean in a, “I really need some coffee, any coffee for *insert what ever random reason here*. I meant it truly tasted amazing. I could tell the freshness and authenticity of how it tasted and it was euphoric. I was surprised.

I’d bought the coffee absentmindedly while looking for crystals in this new holistic shop, spotting it while waiting to checkout. I think I’d read somewhere earlier that day that mixing coffee with lemon juice could help burn stomach fat, plus we were almost out of k-cups. So I grabbed the plastic lined paper pouch, that had “Columbia” written over a white sticker label, and proceeded to checkout. Once home it was tucked away behind the near empty box of Green Mountain k-cups. And as predicted we ran out of k-cups. So out came “Columbia” and Boom went my mind. Guys I was like seriously happy. I could feel the happy. On top of that, I felt matured. I finally know the difference between shit diner coffee you drink because you’re cold, or hungover, or just needed something to shock you (even if it’s because it taste so bad) awake, I finally knew good fucking coffee when I tasted it. So I tell my wife….and she AGREES.

Now I know you’re thinking this is probably that defining moment this initial facebook status, turned full-out journal rant was about, but no. I knew she’d agree, we always agree. But while writing the FB status, I reflected on the moment a little longer and started to undress the urge to elaborate. So I began a note, which lead to a word document ultimately pasted here. I realized quite quickly that I needed to document this moment because I’m going to want to know when exactly I became alive.

I always drank coffee because it’s “supposed” to wake you up. Unfortunately, never did any cup of coffee keep me awake. If I can’t wake up, then waking up just isn’t an option in that moment. So coffee became the sidekick to my real morning helper, nicotine. Coffee and a cigarette has always seemed the epitome of adulthood to me. And at 19, I was as adult as they come. 9-5 job, dream car, apartment living, bills due. I’ve been sipping coffee in the morning my whole adult life. Drinking this coffee however made me really FEEL like an adult. A fully functioning, non dependent, emotionally healthy, alive adult. I finally felt those things. I didn’t think I would make it past 18. I tried to end it all at 21. By 25 I figured I was living on borrowed time, so YOLO right? I have lived 1,000 lives. I’v done embarrassingly pathetic things to TRY and feel alive. Now…I’m living. Fully living my life exactly how I want, and no it’s not perfect (cause no one is) but finally I FEEL alive. And if I’m being totally honest, it wasn’t the coffee. The coffee was just the catalyst. It was a location drop in my memory for me to one day reminisce where I started. To look at where I am now as a starting point of my future is the euphoria I felt.

However, it was some good fucking coffee.

Throwback

It was just a week ago

I was floating in dreams
Heart beating for you
But things weren’t as they seemed
It was just a month ago
I was writing for you
Confessing my love
But falling for words untrue
Seems like just yesterday
You were holding my hand
Kissing my lips
Telling me you were my man
But today is different
From all those other times
I finally woke up
And realized you were never mine
So why is it that you still possess my thoughts
I still want your love, without it I’m lost
How is it that your name still rest on my tongue
memories of a fake love song unsung
When will it stop, this endless ache for you
When can I stop loving you?

Low

How are you feeling? Fine.

Overtime I’ve learned to add in other descriptions…oh you know tired, or good good, I’m good. But the best one is I’m fine.

I can’t tell you I feel broken, because you’ll say my pieces are a beautiful collage of lessons I’ve learned. I can’t say I feel hollow because you’ll suggest I find something that has weight and meaning in my life. I don’t say how alone I feel because someone’s always here for me. I can’t explain it. The emptiness. The sadness. It’s unexplainable, it’s just here. And I learn to deal with it. It comes in and takes hold and I learn to go quietly. I sit in the corner of my mind wishing for nothing.

Nobody sets me off, sometimes it’s just a wave of emotion. Most of the time it’s too many thoughts at once. Like an overcrowded q&a session. Why can’t you smile more? Where do you hurt the most? Isn’t this what happy feels like? Did you pray about it? Are you sure? Where’s all your money? How did you make it this far? Why aren’t you dead yet? And after the questions come the answers, and they sting worse than the unexpected tears. You’re nose looks too big when you smile, so don’t. Your heart hurts because you don’t deserve it. You’ll never know what happy feels like. Praying never works. You can’t be trusted. You spend it on nothing. You’ve made it by chance. You’re only here till you’ve had enough.

have you had enough yet?