Image by Berkan Küçükgül from Pixabay
Nothing is perfect. I have always heard that, experience has confirmed this to me in such a way that when something seems too good to be true I start looking for where the bad will come from. That's what happened to me with Daisy, a beautiful and very intelligent woman I met some time ago, just by looking at her I found her attractive but when she started talking about interesting topics I was simply hooked by her charisma and brilliance. I would slip into the conversations she had with other professors trying to get her attention, without much success at first but little by little I was becoming visible, so we went from group conversations to personal chats in which the break time flew by, we had connected in a great way.
After some time, many chats and several outings after work everything seemed to flow to the next level and it was a Friday afternoon when after classes we arranged to meet at a small cafe at the end of the boulevard, the place was my idea and I must admit that I deliberately ignored Daisy's gesture of disdain when we entered the charming place. I ordered an espresso and she asked for a tea, curious I gave her some alternatives with coffee but she only said that she had already had one in the afternoon and that it was enough for the rest of the day. That last sentence echoed in my mind, maybe because I don't usually use the words coffee and enough in the same sentence. She took the opportunity to comment that she had noticed that I had a strong coffee fix to which I responded by taking a generous sip from my huge mug. I felt a kind of hidden claim in that comment, once again I let it pass because I really liked that lady thinking that I already knew that she could not be perfect but the fact that she did not like coffee painted from red to dark.
Time went on, we started to live together and she spent the weekends at my house. If there is any day for me where coffee goes from a custom to a sacred ritual, it is Sunday; it is essential for me to wake up early and go straight to prepare coffee, after that the world exists. The problem is that Daisy was part of that world that did not exist until that Sunday coffee. She on the contrary liked to sleep more that day and of course that I was right next to her, so she was not amused that I sneaked out early to be unfaithful to her with my cup of coffee.
She complained bitterly to me just as I used to drink the black coffee and I just tried to explain to her that for me it was even a matter of mental health to do it. She even suggested that I could wait until we got up together to make coffee and so I tried it a couple of Sundays. The thing was as I will tell you, I would open my eyes as soon as the sun came out of the window, I could see her sound asleep, I would look at the electronic clock announcing 7:15 am, then I would look at the ceiling, then the window where I entertained myself counting the birds that flew by, I felt her moving but not false alarm, the window again, more birds added to the count, I looked at the clock that winked at me 7: 21, by all the heavens those minutes were eternal, I moved, I coughed, I stretched, I pulled the sheets and nothing. That woman gave no sign of waking up, I felt like pulling her like a Margarita, until finally an hour later she opened her eyes and smiled to see me there well behaved like a teddy bear that kept her sleep.
That was unbearable for me and since then I resumed my own habit, wake up, go to prepare my coffee, drink it enjoying the morning on the balcony and then infiltrate back into the bed where Daisy with all her petals is still sleeping.
THE END
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Original written in Spanish - Translation by DeepL free version.