aWalrus's Journal: Cold black coffee.

This morning at work I was drinking coffee and enjoying it immensely, but then something came along that distracted me long enough for the coffee to get cold. When I turned my attention to the cup again, it still had some coffee in it. Cold coffee. You know that feeling of dread you get when you just know that the next sip won't taste good at all, and yet you just want to go ahead and taste it one more time, thus ruining the whole experience of that particular cup of coffee? I felt that.

Black coffee should be strong. bitter and threaten your tongue with permanent damage. It should fume and when you get close to it, inspire respect. Throwing it on your lap should spell doom and second degree burns at the very least. Cold black coffee is none of these things. It is harmless, tastes like watery sand and doesn't inspire respect. It is but a memory of what it once was. You know it won't live up to your mental image of how it should taste in your mouth. You know it was great at some point, but that point has come and gone. Yet, you're strangely tempted to give it one more try. I've felt this way about some relationships in the past.

I didn't take another sip of that cup of coffee. I just dumped it and let it go. The taste in my mouth was much better than anything it could have offered me.

...

I think I'm learning.