bleeding stars|✅

the one with caffeine

I can drink coffee again;

Without hearing your stupid voice scoffing at my choice (always an Americano, two sugars), because apparently coffee was the drink that people who had given up had, a logic I never quite comprehended, but I can drink coffee again.

This inconsequential piece of information is a big deal for me, because for the past three months I haven't been able to even smell caffeine without sighing. The baristas hate me. The other customers hate me. I'm the kid in line who takes more than ten minutes to order.

You used to like tea.

The kind sweetened to death, the kind that morons had when they wanted diabetes. You should've known better, you were studying medicine, for Christ's sake. But you drank tea, regardless. And you drank it like an alcoholic, at least three cups a day. It makes up for the bitterness in my life, you used to say, making me scoff. You could've been a doctor but you could have never been a writer. You were far too cheesy.

You were the kind who called me up at three just to say good morning. You were the kind that played the wrong chords to Coldplay and I would be too busy laughing to correct you. You wrote me letters. Who writes letters anymore? You were this cyclone of trouble I got dragged into, and I swayed along.

It all comes down to this;

the boy, the type people turn into protagonists.

the girl, the kind people end up hating by the end of the book.