Coffee. The bitter-sweet taste of a cold concoction meant to be hot, never quite hits the spot. Then again, this is a small town with but one coffee shop available. It’s not that its terrible, it’s not. It’s actually quite tasty, but caffeine in coffee is supposed to wake the senses, correct? I’m still in a daze while I write this, but that might not be fixed by all the coffee in the world. That might not be fixed until I close my eyes tonight and awake again to greet a new day.

Despite my daze, I enjoy this quaint little shop. It’s a piece of heaven on a strip of the town square. A peaceful paradise where one can listen to music and be inspired. Where one might write all day, if ever allowed. Where the life around you caving in tends to pause in order for you to have a cup of coffee. I love coming here.

I was first introduced to this little shop my freshman year of High School. My best friend loved it here, and one day after school she introduced me to a Snickers Frappuccino with swirls of whipped cream on top. We laughed, cried, and breathed this coffee shop. Mostly laughed. We laughed so hard we couldn’t breathe. We didn’t care if people thought we were too loud. It would just make us laugh even more. Such innocent and blissful times.

Since then, I have made friends here, lost friends, cuddled on the couches with a third wheel watching, danced, sang, swept even though I have never worked here. I was reunited with old friends over an Alpine. I fell in love over ice cream because he doesn’t care much for coffee. Had first dates and friend-zoned a close friend. My whole life in this town became centered around this little shop.

Unfortunately, it seems like everyone is too busy for this place unless they are over the age of forty. Now, I visit this shop when I can, in between days off of work and with other plans made. I come to lay my creativity into action with pen and paper colliding. Its a nice get away from the lonely home. Its the one place where writer’s block can’t enter. You’re surrounded by the town, looking out the windows, and serenated by the sway of Jack Johnson and Birdy.

I love coming here when I can. I can simply rest mind or finally put it to use. I don’t have to be anyone special here. I’m just another soul blending into the coffee decals on the walls. I’ve become part of the place. No expectations are set on me here. No heavy burdens to bare. Just peace. One might mistaken this place for a church, where one might quiet their mind and meditate.

Here, I discover what exactly I can and can’t do. I find the depths of myself, no matter how ugly and destroyed they may be, and I create. I create my own reality. My bubble of protection against any outside forces. This is where I go to find myself. In this little coffee shop over a delicious yet useless substance. Coffee.