When we first met, you were a glass of iced tea on a very hot day: refreshing, cool, enjoyable, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. In the mad heat of the summer, I yearned for you, sought the scintillatingly energizing you, shamelessly and recklessly. In the summer, while the temperatures were high and my skin became tan, I could only think about the chilly you, wanting to taste you on my tongue and savor your delicious self. In the summer, we were younger and bolder... Our love was passionate then, fueled by the desires of two wild hearts that didn't know what real love was.

Then came autumn, and it got colder outside... Suddenly I stopped craving coolness and my passion for your quickly started to fade. And just like the leaves on autumnal trees, my desire for you wandered down off of the branches of my heart... Busy schedules and ever-changing agendas kept us apart and there were more fights and less laughter in the chilly midst of fall. 

Winter made a dramatic appearance, blanketing everything in thick, fluffy layers of white snow and you too adjusted to the change, becoming a warm caramel macchiato, and just like that, once again I wanted you... You looked so delectable on the outside and I immediately took a large gulp, only to burn my tongue and realize how bitter you were. But, every day, I thought of having you. Why, I still don't even know. I never really liked coffee anyways.

Spring was our most sour season. I realized how much I hated coffee, and I abruptly ended our relationship. Spring was full of rancidly tart moments, with me calling you up drunk and crying after hearing you had found another woman... I also moved on with another man. He was perfectly chilled chocolate milk: simple, traditional, and sweet. And you stayed the same, a fancy espresso. Midaway through the seasons resurged my desire for the harsh bitterness of coffee and I wanted you and my other lover... So I had you both. But together, the beverages are not a good combination, so I had you one at a time, often one right after the other. It was so wrong, but it felt so right. You became iced tea again, practical and lovely, and you left me. Rather out of the blue, I may add. You left for the other girl, telling me she was the one. Do you know how much I cried? But the show must go on. And so it did. At the end of that spring, Choco and I decided to get married. He insisted we invite you, thinking you were just a close friend. But you weren't. And you aren't. And you'll never be. You're much more than that. But you didn't come. I wanted you there, oh so badly... But not as an audience member. I wanted you there, slipping a ring in my finger and placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. But you didn't come.

It's been seven years since our first summer together... Seven long years. I'm married with kids, and your wife is ready to give you a daughter. And I'm sure she will be beautiful. Just like you. We haven't talked for seven years, not even a simple "hello" to acknowledge each other's presences when passing by. It's summer now, Sunggyu. And don't you know my favorite summertime beverage is cool iced tea...?