Coffee, Tea, and I Love You

a promise to him

He wished he were a glass of milk.

Do you remember when you're this little baby who couldn't eat anything other than milk? And when you're older, you had a glass of warm and sweet milk, then you'd brush your teeth before safely reached for your bed. It's the safe feeling that you're gonna be fine during the dark night and sound sleep, because you knew that Mom had already made the milk evil-proof; and you're immune to anything bad. Because you knew that there's this little pray that Mom had silently poured along with the liquid, that you knew somehow, despite the nightmare, you'd be fine. Mom was gonna be there.

This was not about it.

Because now, he had grown out to a fine man. It's his turn to take care of his Mom... 

Do you remember the first time you knew strawberry? Chocolate? And perhaps honey? All the sweets, they're tasty but bad for your teeth. But then the chemical people blend those sweets you adore into chocolate milk, strawberry milk, and so on. You're happy that for the first time in your life, milk was not that plain anymore. Milk was not always white anymore. And it gave a sense of luxury. The sense of a sophisticated personality; for now milk is chemically processed.

But this was also not about it.

Because all he ever wanted to be was only a decent guy, a simple and down-to-earth guy. He didn't wanna be special, because it's merely not who he was.

He knew it best that milk was healty. Milk had anything a person could want. Carbohydrate to protein to fat. To vitamin and minerals. Even those who couldn't digest lactose in a milk, could actually use a fermented milk they called as yoghurt. Yes, it was sour. But go to Sour Sally and take a look on happy and satisfied people. They love their yoghurt. Too much fat? Try the low-fat milk. Need more calcium? Easy, just find a certain brand. Want to gain weight? Turn to milk.

Yet again, that was not what he wanted.

Because he learnt that by time, you couldn't be everything for a person. It's tiring and useless.

He really wished that he were a glass of milk.

Not in the sense that he's not grateful for what he's now.

He knew that so many people favored him over some other things. He knew that in a humble way, he's perfect. That he should be counting his blessings.

But, the bottomline here is, he fell for a cup of coffee.

So bitter that it almost sucked out all the happiness known to people.

So black that it was color-blind.

So caffeinated that it was representing the insomniac nights you had when you're working up late, and there's no one to come home to.

So he wanted to be a glass of white milk.

So sweet that perhaps he could trade the sadness into a smile; even a light smile would be enough.

So white that he could bargain the darkness into grey, or brown.

So relaxing, caffein-free, that perhaps he could bring some peace to the night.

So that he could be together with a cup of coffee.... There. Simple. Easy.

But he's just a glass of tea.