Coffee and Love

It’s the first taste that always captures the senses. For us coffee drinkers, it’s that first sip in the morning to which we exert that sigh which suggests we can make it through another working day. While some coffee drinkers will settle for an instant hit, some will never touch it.

A battle exists for those of us who are a little lazy in the kitchen. Back when my coffee dependency began, there were no Nespresso machines and George Clooney was teasing us through movies and tabloids not tantalising us with coffee. Making great coffee took longer than a couple of quick clicks. So instant it was for many.

‘Near enough is good enough’ was how I also handled my love life until my mid-thirties. Something had to change. So I bought myself an Italian Moka stovetop coffee brewer. The first one I bought was expensive and too big for one person, but I bought it anyway. It took too long to make the coffee and it never seemed to dry. It always felt mouldy. And so I never used it. I sat it on my window sill, waiting for it to dry. When I felt like a proper coffee, I’d run my finger on the inside of it and sigh. It didn’t feel right. It had to go!

So, like I often do in the kitchen I cut a corner and bought a cheap and smaller version at the bargain shop. My mum would’ve been proud. It makes the coffee in an instant without it being instant and I can clean it or reuse it in under a minute. Perfect. Well, almost.

Although it made that perfect hit of coffee, it spilt everywhere. I was determined for it to work, because it tasted so good. It only took a few times to work out the best way to pour with the least spillage. It was just what I needed. In fact, it was perfect for me.

Can you see where I’m going here …

Love and food often go hand in hand. A date often consists of dinner or a coffee. The pleasure one feels from a mouthful of something delicious can be likened to the pleasure of a great kiss. Like my coffee maker, I knew that no one was perfect. I expected there to be negatives. But I decided to not settle for good enough anymore. I wanted that man that was perfect for me.

I love that feeling of first falling in love. That dizzy feeling when you feel like you’ve met that special someone that the universe has created for you. I’m tired of that feeling ending. I want it to last forever.

“I want to fall in love,” I told a friend.

“Greg loved you,” she said. “And Paul loved you and –“

“I know,” I interrupted. “But I want to fall in love too!”

“Yeah. Well, I don’t think that’s too much to ask for,” she agreed.

When you meet someone, you talk heaps, because you are getting to know someone new, who you know nothing about. It’s all new. It’s all exciting. And so it should be.

When you connect with someone, you wonder if they could be the one you could see yourself growing old with. If the answer is “yes”, you take a step forward and continue down that road. I’d been on enough dates to understand that we don’t all fit together like Lego. I had also been on enough dates to know when to walk away and when to stay.

Over time, most people settle and get used to each other and unfortunately many take each other for granted. It’s a fact of life that we all change over time. We learn new things and develop new attitudes, beliefs and philosophies. Why is it that most of the human species neglect to acknowledge, embrace and utilise one of the most important skills of humanity? Communication, even in its simplest form keeps you in touch with each other.

Sadly, many people get so used to each other and “settled in their ways” that they forget “their ways” used to be fun, romantic and playful.

Some people just accept the negative philosophy that “this is what happens”. Those people are the ones that always shake their head at me when I say that I can keep romance alive. They say “that’s the way it is in a long term relationship.”

But I won’t fall for that. I’ll never forget a conversation in an Ancient History class when I was seventeen, when one of the girls filled my head with the dream of everlasting love.

“My grandparents are more in love now, than when they met,” she said. “They still hold hands walking down the street and cuddle and kiss all the time.”

I remembered thinking “That’s what I want! All or nothing!”

In my thirties, I may have been independent and didn’t need a man, but I wanted one. I wanted someone to “get used to” my playfulness and play back forever. I wanted to get used to being swept away with passion that never dies. I wanted a man who could stop at the end of a busy week and look into my eyes and tell me he has missed me even though he saw me that morning. I want to find ‘the one’ I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

I remember the year I met four older women who touched my heart in a profound way. Unknown to each other and met individually, their four stories were different, but all led to the same pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

With hearts full of warmth, I confided in them. I told them how I was ridiculed for being such a romantic.I was considered an unrealistic dreamer. I asked all four the same question. “Can love and romance last forever?”

The first, was a lady who was about to travel the world with her husband. The other three had lost their husbands due to illness. Three of the ladies said their soul mate was their second husband.

All four women told me not to listen to the negatives of others in society. All four women saw their husband as their lover and best friend. All four women told me that passion can last. All four women told me to never settle but wait, because it was worth it.

One of the ladies told me of her husband’s five year battle with cancer. As she told me about him, my eyes filled with tears.

“We were so much in love,” she cried. “He held on so long. He wanted to make sure things were ok with me. The day he died, our whole family was in his hospital room. He told our children to go out for dinner. I knew something was different. He told me how much he loved me and he knew I was going to be ok. Then he died in my arms. We were married for twenty three years. He was as sweet a man when he died as when we first met.” She took my hand in hers and continued. “Never give up on true romance, because it can last.”

My restless soul often felt displaced. I often felt that there was a piece of me missing or that I was a piece missing from some place that I’m meant to be. I always felt that I didn’t belong. I’d watch movies set in Europe and I’d cry. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be in Sydney Australia.

I wanted to discover the world. I wanted an espresso in Italy and a Greek Coffee in Greece. I wanted the real thing. I wanted my coffee like I wanted my man, strong and delicious. I wanted someone who I’d stay up all night with. I wanted to find someone I could truly love with all my heart and soul. I wanted someone who will truly love me back. I knew it was possible. And until then, I knew I was better off alone. I wasn’t going to close my heart off, but I wasn’t going to waste time either. I wanted to fall in love.

Have you ever been delirious in bed and snuggled up to someone who wasn’t there. Imagined his chest against your cheek and felt his lips on your brow. Although loving my own space, I was tired of sleeping alone, over Mr. Halfright and fed up with Mr. Halfwit. I needed to hear the words “I love you” from the man I loved. Where was he?

Have you ever woken to the sound of a whisper of someone who wasn’t there, then spent the next few moments still waiting for something else to happen?

One morning I was woken with him whispering my name. Only I had no idea who he was. And when I woke, I was alone. Again. I often feel him, even though I can’t see him, even though I don’t know his name.

Something had a hold of me that day. I was attending to one of my many duties at work, when a strong feeling came over me. I was in the middle of moving boxes, when all of a sudden I just stopped. There goes that tugging on my soul again, I thought. It wasn’t as if I was bored and daydreaming. I was busy and active when I was pulled back by a feeling I couldn’t explain.

I could feel another soul calling out for mine. Someone was daydreaming and wondering where I was. I could feel it. He was probably where I often find myself, which was deep in thought and wanting more, frustrated with the every day that ended without someone to cuddle up to.

Was his soul yearning so loud that mine was picking up on it? Or was it that my mind was too busy and my soul needed to be heard. The truth is there was no way to prove any of it! But I knew he was out there. And I knew he was looking for me too.

I know you’re thinking “yeah yeah, this woman is pazza!” But when the man of your daydreams finds you, you know! You fully realise why you were waiting so long in that queue! And when you find him, you know the wait was worth it!