You are my substance of choice. I’ve decided it’s time to finally come out and tell you the sincere and absolute truth.
People have so many different vices. For some of us, the rush of constant accomplishment that accompanies the video game is our drug of choice. For others, it’s the complex character (berries, oak, nuts, leather?) of an elderly red wine, or the roast of a cup of hot, black coffee. For some, release is found in warping the mundanity of the world into something a little more fanciful.
But you, tea.
You are the one I have chosen above all others. If you had a finger, I would put a tarnished, antique, second-hand ring on it, purchased from a kindly old man in suspenders.
Everything about you is gentle and yet, robust. You come in every possible flavor, strength, and volume. You have everything on coffee, in my certainly unbiased eyes: you shine when consumed alone, as well as when foamed with milk; you can be paired with sugar, flavored with chocolate, or drizzled with honey.
Your caffeine, unlike your rainforest-decimating cousin, comes on slow, gentle. (I am picking a bit on the coffee bean here, I realize; but consider that coffee probably doesn’t notice and is not offended, and, certainly, yerba maté [though it is rather loose to call that tea] is not much less culpable.) Why, tea, your easy lift is so much of the reason that I love you. You pick up your drinker gently, as if on light, feathered wings, and you never toss her roughly to the ground. There are no stomach-aches when I associate with you, and no head-aches when I abstain.
Dear tea—you are my healthiest relationship to date.
I have yet to try all the kinds of you, but so far, finding a variety thats suits my mood has never escaped me. Feeling chummy, contented? Roasted green, or light silver tips. Morning haze? Some strong, sturdy black variety. Vomiting all over the place? You’ve got at least one herbal strain for that, too.
So, tea, consider this love letter as a token of my (as of yet) never-ending devotion. Though I may occasionally drop half a shot of espresso in my chai latte, please, don’t take it personally.
You’re my number one.