Love smells like coffee

We were each other’s first love. I was also his only and last love. Ten years of love, three years of living together, with a thirty-year-old girl, that was a lifetime, habits and personality – all formed by him.

He taught me how to love, like the way he cherished a drop of coffee:

"Making coffee doesn't need to be complicated, but it must be done correctly, that's how to respect the coffee beans. Like when you love someone, you need to respect them for it to last."

Coffee is the way people find each other amidst the hustle and bustle. Like we used to – connecting through cups of coffee and games of chess. That love is not rushed or noisy – like each drop of coffee falling – the slower the stronger.

I love watching him meticulously make coffee, like an artist blending the scent into each drop. The coffee he makes is not strong but thick and rich like him - calm and sincere. I suddenly understand: marriage is like enjoying coffee - bitter on the tip of the tongue, sweet aftertaste. The arguments make the harmony of love clearer.

Then one day he left, suddenly like a wind at the beginning of the season. The house was quiet, the old filter, two small cups and the spoon he often used, lay quietly in the corner, listening to my sigh.

When you left, I could only make coffee with memories and a heart full of longing. Each drop of coffee that fell was like a drop of nostalgia, dripping down into my heart. Memories mixed with the aroma of coffee, permeating the space – like old habits returning, gently caressing me.

Everything eventually disappears like the last drop of coffee in an old filter.

But that fragrant coffee love will be what stays in the end – supporting and comforting me forever.

(Entry to the contest "Impressions of Vietnamese coffee and tea" under the program "Honoring Vietnamese coffee and tea" for the 3rd time, 2025 organized by Nguoi Lao Dong Newspaper).