The taste of smoke and coffee take me back to a place I wish I never left. It was a stressful place, but I loved it. I miss feeling loved no matter where I was or who I was with. I didn’t know what to do with what I had, so I did what I knew how to do. I tore down everything I had and expected her to still love me. It wasn’t till after I left when we both realized how much of a mistake it was. But that doesn’t matter anymore.
The taste of smoke on her lips after our morning coffee. I hated it, but after each of my cigars all I can think of is sitting with her while she smoked. She knew how flawed I was and tried as hard as she could to help me but I was too immature to want to grow up. I could have had the world and I couldn’t see it.
Now smokey aftertaste and coffee is all I have left, and it reminds me daily of my mistakes.
If by some off chance you still read my blog, I still think about you.