There are days when coffee tastes like salvation, not just because of the caffeine that awakens the senses, but because of the hands that hold it, the smiles that accompany it, and the stories woven between sips. Coffee alone is good, but shared coffee is magical. And those who truly love you know this.
I remember a gray afternoon, one of those days when the world feels heavier than usual. I came home with a clouded mind and a tight chest. Then, a message: "Will you be home? I’ll pick you up in half an hour. I need you to try a new coffee I discovered." It was a friend, one of the good ones, the kind who senses my existential crises before I do.
It wasn’t the coffee that saved me that day, though its bold espresso helped. It was the gesture, the unspoken "I’m here," and his patience as he listened to me pour out my sorrows amid the roasted aroma. The coffee was just an excuse; the real gift was his time.
Some friendships defy distance, like that friend, who was once my biochemistry professor and now lives in Angola. During one of his vacations here in Cuba, he showed up at my door with Angolan coffee, the kind he drank every morning. "So you can have breakfast with me, even if only in spirit." Every time I brew it, I’m transported to Luanda, to its bustling streets, to his table, or to the clinic where he works long hours. That coffee didn’t just connect me to his homeland but to the generosity of someone who thinks of you from across the world.
And there are so many more people like that, those who believe in the therapeutic power of good coffee. Every time a love falls apart or sadness weighs heavy on the soul, they appear with the infallible phrase: "Come on, this can be fixed with coffee and honesty."
Of course, I drink coffee alone often: during routine mornings, work-filled afternoons, or those moments when I just need a silent companion. But when a friend invites me, the coffee transforms. It’s no longer just a drink, it becomes an act of love disguised as a ritual.
Because shared coffee is time gifted. It’s the "I’m here" in a cup, the way others say: "I see you, you matter, and I want to be here with you in this moment."
✨ 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈! ✨
𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒕—𝑰’𝒎 𝒂 𝑪𝒖𝒃𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒐’𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝑯𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒂𝒓.
𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔, 100% 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏-𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 (𝒏𝒐 𝑨𝑰).
𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝑳𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒊.
𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕? 𝑼𝒑𝒗𝒐𝒕𝒆, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒚! 💛
