I don’t consider myself to be a particularly emotional or sentimental girl, but there’s a certain someone that really trips my trigger and makes my heart race. Okay fine, it’s technically an inanimate object. But regardless of my level of love and longing, a girl has her limits. I think I’ve just about reached mine.
I think it might be time to end things.
I woke up this morning and my first waking thought was of you.
I want what you give me first thing every morning. Scratch that … I need what you give me, and as fast as possible upon waking. I just can’t function without you. As soon as my eyes open, I think of you. I’m drawn to the spot where you are because I know you’re there, waiting for me. I just can’t stay away.
Sometimes, I let my mind wander and I think of what a life without you would look like. I’d be empty. Tired. Cranky. So, so cranky.
I’ve always known the scales were uneven. One person in the relationship always cares just a little bit more, and I’m okay with being that someone. I have no shame when it comes to you. I’m a little bit addicted to you, and I like it.
I’m seeing the writing on the wall, lover. You’re starting to pull away. This morning, I sensed a new hesitancy and it caused me to panic. I usually get a predictable result when I push your buttons. Even though I’m the one who cares just a little bit more, I’ve never sensed an unwillingness to accommodate me, to give me what I need.
Here’s the deal: I know I can replace you. It’ll cost me a pretty penny, but I know I can trade up and get a younger, sleeker model who will have more zip and stamina. One who will be willing and eager to meet my need for instant gratification.
Don’t think I won’t do it.
We’ve been together for over two years now. With the exception of a couple vacations and the odd weekend away here and there, you’ve been my faithful morning companion. More than a companion. Because there have been a few times where I’ve thought, Maybe I can do without you for just one day.
But today, I sensed your weariness. Maybe you’re tired of me? Or maybe you’re just tired. This morning, I sunk to a new low. I leaned over you and shamelessly begged.
“Please, no. Don’t go. Not now. Not today.”
And then I threatened.
“Don’t make me get the emergency instant coffee.”
When you finally gave in and satisfied me, I nearly wept with relief.
I realize the mental picture of me leaning over the kitchen counter in my nightgown, the tips of my disheveled hair brushing the once-shiny letters that spell sweet salvation every morning might make me appear a little desperate.
Yes friends, my beloved coffee making machine is on his last legs — and don’t ask me how I know it’s a “he.” He usually performs on demand, but he’s getting tired. I pulled out the “don’t make me get the emergency instant coffee” threat for crying out loud. I might have said “please don’t leave me” out. freaking. loud.
He made a funny noise as he started to brew my morning cup of OMG-I-CAN’T-EVEN-if-I-don’t-slurp-this-down-within-the-first-five-minutes-of-being-vertical. He performed. He got there in the end — chug-chug-spluttered his way through brewing my cup o’ life. But my faith has been shaken.
He’ll live to brew another day, another cup, but now I have trust issues. Although it makes me feel a little dirty, I’m already on the prowl for a replacement. I’m suggestively eyeing other coffee makers when I walk the aisles of Target. I’m trolling Amazon and Best Buy, hoping to see the price that will make the ultimate end to my relationship with my beloved Keurig a little more bearable. I have to have a new one waiting in the wings before I can completely sever ties, right?
The writing is on the wall. It’s not you, Keurig … it’s me. On second thought, it is you. If you’re not willing to be there for me 100 percent, I think we’re going to have to see other people.
P.S. It’s not weird that I just wrote a breakup letter to my Keurig, is it?