Dear American Breakfast,
You are undeniably the greatest meal of every day. At night I am eager to go to sleep because I know when I wake up I’ll have another chance to see you again. If my day was a rollercoaster, you would be the peak — it’s all downhill from the moment we part.
As you know, I’m a very routine-driven person. You are my rock — the one thing I can rely on to make sure my day goes according to plan.
Green tea with lemon, you are the most perfect light, refreshing wake-up beverage (coffee comes later).
There is nothing more satisfying after a good night’s sleep than waking up to you, omelettes.
Loaded oatmeal, you are the perfect balance between well-being and pleasure.
Yogurt and granola parfaits, you are so sweet and I dread the moment you are gone.
Smoothies! You! Are! Drinkable! Breakfast! There is no higher compliment than that.
And you, waffles, pancakes, french toast and cinnamon rolls, are the perfect weekend indulgence.
I would ditch lunch and dinner in a heartbeat if it meant having breakfast three times a day.
I’ve been living in Italy for the past few weeks, and you are the thing I miss the most. I’ve pushed through the jet lag and gotten over my brief stint of homesickness. I’ve adjusted to the list of subtle-yet-strange differences. A different standard paper and notebook size? Not an issue. Sparkling water being the norm? An odd choice, but I can deal with it. No Target? Pretty tough, but I’ve managed.
I’ve conquered all those and more, but the thought of going three more months before seeing you again almost makes me want to book a flight home right now. Almost.
Italians just don’t seem to appreciate you like I do. They opt for a small cappuccino — maybe a small pastry — and skip right over you without the blink of an eye.
And don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed plenty a good Italian cappuccino. But they just don’t measure up to you.
I absolutely love it here. Walking (and even public transportation) has become ever more enjoyable through beautiful sights and temperate weather. Millennia of history is so easily accessible, I feel like the world is at my fingertips.
I just wish you were here with me.
It’ll be so hard to get through these next few months without you, but I know I shall persevere. I long for the moment we’ll be reunited once again.
Lovingly yours,
Amanda