If there was a prize for letting hot drinks turn cold,
I would win it. Every time.
Every time I make coffee or tea
I make it with all the excitement a hot drink
can bring.
Sweet warmth. Forgotten.
Hours later, I find the cup.
The steam is gone. I reheat it. The taste is off now.
Is sadness a flavor? Is disappointment?
Why do I do this?
Let all the things in my life,
go bad without enjoying them?
Friendships, moments.
If you don't appreciate them at the time,
they'll be forever tainted, hollow.
You can go back, try again, remember.
But it is never the same.

Maybe I don't let myself enjoy things,
because I'm scared of them ending.
What happens when I finish my cup of tea?

Nothing.
It is just tea.
There is always more.
Right?

*Maybe that's the problem.