Dear Coffee,

Look, we need to talk. No, seriously, please put away the delicious smell of my favourite Starbucks Caramel k-cup. It’s time for us to to be honest with one another.

I’m going to get straight to the point. It’s time for us to be done.

I know, I know. This is shocking for you. And me. And literally every single person who knows me and my severe addiction to your smooth, warm, inviting energy kick. But it’s true.

Please, don’t be upset. It’s not you, it’s… Well, actually, it is you. But let me explain.

I’ve recently had a few concerns, which have left me questioning many aspects of my current lifestyle. Something is up with either my brain or my heart, and I may or may not have recently had a stroke. As if that’s not enough, since losing Mom last summer, I’ve been battling depression again and haven’t been sleeping properly as a result. Also between work, university and life in general, I have had more than my fair share of stress these days. Heavy stuff, right? You can understand why I need to take a long hard look at the young lady in the mirror.

The thing is, between you and whiskey, I drink too much chemical altering liquids. And let’s be honest here if it’s a choice between the two of you, we all know I’m not giving up whiskey.

I mean, look how great this collection is getting! Not to mention my pretty new DIY dry bar…

Yes, this is an old TV. Gutted and painted. I love it.

But I digress. I feel I have become far too reliant on you, and I’m not quite sure how we got here. I used to be a tea drinker and a snobby one at that. To be honest, and this might hurt to hear, but I’ve never actually like the taste of coffee. There. I said it.

So how did I become so utterly dependent on you? It all started about a dozen years ago, in college, when you and I were simply mere acquaintances. I handful of looming deadlines and all-nighters, and you and I got to know each other real quick. What started out as the odd couple here and there, evolved into 3 to 4 cups per day over the last several years.

I convinced myself I needed you. After all, I was busy career woman working tirelessly to launch a new company. I thought I was exhausted in those years. Then I had kids. It turns out I had no fucking idea what exhausted was. I somehow became one of those people who desperately had to make my morning coffee before I even hit the bathroom. By the time I got the kids out the door and finished my morning commute to the office, I believed I needed another. Then, as I found myself sleepy-eyed in the early afternoon, I would make one or two more.

There were days when I’m sure I had consumed more than 40 ounces of your warm, sleep altering drug. That just can’t be ok.

Dammit, Coffee. I said put down the caramel k-cup! You’re not playing fair.

Listen, I know you’re thinking. You think I can’t do this. You think I’ll come crawling back to you. But here’s the thing. As of today, I have gone one month without you. That’s right; it has been four full weeks since I’ve had a cup of coffee.

I got a tell ya, coffee, I feel pretty damn good. I am sleeping better than I have in years. I feel much more alert during the day. In fact, I have so much energy I almost feel superhuman. It’s a bit ironic given that I only embraced this relationship with you to give me an energy boost. Now I find myself far more energetic since our abrupt breakup.

I have gone back to my snobby, loose leaf tea drinking ways. My cupboard is now filled with deliciously fragrant varieties. I even found a Caramel Rooibos. So you can give up the caramel k cup already, you’re never going to break me.

If it makes you feel any better, some of the tea I drink does contain your heart and soul, caffeine. See, I haven’t left you completely. I have just moved onto your incredibly less caffeinated cousin.

That probably doesn’t make you feel any better.

But it not about making you feel better. Ideally, it’s about making me feel better. And I do. Impressively so.

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