Peppermint Mocha | Inquirer Opinion
Young Blood

Peppermint Mocha

/ 03:26 AM December 20, 2015

You are Christmas in a cup and a past in my present and future. You are that strange yet familiar taste in my holiday drink, the one that has always been my favorite. You are Peppermint Mocha, and for that, Christmas will never be the same again.

You are seasonal, one of a kind. Yes, there are people like you, but people like me and people like you don’t cross paths that often, and if I’m one of the unfortunate ones, I’d get to meet you once in this lifetime. And now that I did, once would have been enough for the world. But for me, it wasn’t, isn’t, and never will be.

But on ordinary days, I’d get to have you, too—if I prayed hard to Him the way I would request the barista specific intricacies for my drink: a simple Chocolate Cream Chip, but add two pumps of peppermint syrup; a pinch of quirkiness and cuteness; extra whipped cream; two cups of chubby cheeks; another cup, just for my collection. An extra hour or two for our conversation, just in case I needed motivation that once stopped me from slacking off during an hour of physics.

Oh, and I had a choice if you were hot or cold, and what size. In coffee shops they need particular details—cold beverage, just tall. But with you, I paradoxically chose not to choose. I gladly took, and would’ve taken you still up to now even if your hair had outgrown its pixie cut. If you were losing pounds because you went to the gym, or if you were gaining weight because of the food street near your university. Glasses or contacts. Dark brown, green, or, God forbid, even in your Naruto hair phase, I stayed.

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I’d usually take that coffee concoction cold amid the chilly weather because it just felt right; with you, of course, I was different. You neither sent shivers down my spine nor caused my hands to be cold. You didn’t make me nervous every time you were near—but you, dear, gave me warmth. That kind when you know that the feeling’s right. When you’ve finally reached home. When, in its rarity but impeccability, my heart and mind were in sync when it came to matters of the heart as lovely as you. So I took cold drinks every time because I knew that I could count on you for warmth, for home. For love that gave sense to what I was and giving hope to what I could become.

You were a tradition—something that was gone and now comes back. Perhaps it’s a technique long known as effective, since absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn’t it? But in the long run it became monotonous, boring, and I grew tired of it. I grew tired of you.

So I tried my other go-to drinks. There’s the Chocolate Cream Chip, my favorite. My first love, because it never dies. Then the Java Chip. There’s this bitterness, but there’s a treat. That person was a mistake, but it was worth a try. And sometimes the white, caramel one, since it reminded me of tulles.

But there was no one that compared to you.

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You were Christmas in a cup, the future in my past and future. You were the amalgamation of my past mistakes and my better-discerned and well-thought decisions. You were my favorite beverage: You were, are, and will always be Peppermint Mocha. And for that, Christmas will never be the same.

So when I had a quick chance to purchase that beverage, I almost did. I almost chose Peppermint Mocha. But I decided to go for another Christmas flavor, because this Christmas will never be the same.

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Because finally, I’m giving you up for others who deserve to feel your warmth and minty feeling of love much more than I ever will. At least, in this lifetime.

Chlarine M. Gianan, 17, is a freshman at the University of the Philippines Los Baños.

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TAGS: Coffee, love, relationships, Starbucks

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