Dealing With A Break Up

Only five days since we went our separate ways,
Since I walked away, said we needed a break.
The days have gone by in a psychotic craze,
How could I make such a stupid mistake?
“It’s not forever”, that’s what I said,
But deep in my mind, there in my head
I made a decision to never look back
So why do I struggle to stay on track?
I miss you, I want you,
I NEED you… I’ll admit it.
You’re an addiction so strong,
It hurts trying to kick it.
You were always there,
Whenever I felt low,
Yet now I treat you
Like a dastardly foe.
Turning my back,
Ignoring your call,
Putting up barriers,
Building a wall.
I couldn’t carry on,
Please try to see
I had no choice – it was you or me.
You were making me weak,
I was becoming too needy,
Selfish, indulgent, dependent and greedy.
You offered me comfort
Which I willingly took
It was only for Lent
That I forced myself to look
At all of my vices; a horrible list,
My body in crisis… I knew I had to resist,
So I took a vow, to show you the door
Such a difficult choice; now I long for you more.
I yearn for your warmth, solace and smell,
Knowing we’re over is quite simply hell
You’ve always been such a wonderful friend,
And the longing I feel will surely never end.
There’s no-one like you,
You’re the leader of the pack
The perfect golden brew,
There’s nothing you lack,
I sit and reminisce
On all those soothing sips,
You’ll always have my heart but…
Goodbye PG Tips.

[This poem is to mark the end of my addiction to tea. No more 5 cups a day. We are over.]


Tea – 12th February, 2007

For the second day running, I’ve gone into my local Pret A Manger to buy a cup of English Breakfast tea, only to have the muppet behind the counter tell me that they’ve RUN OUT OF TEA.

What is the world coming to? I can’t even get a tea now? I NEED MY TEA. I can’t get through a day without it. I’m like a car with no petrol. How can I be expected to function without tea? The doughnut behind the counter offered me a herbal tea instead. I don’t want a horrid herbal tea. If I wanted fruit flavoured water I’d just buy a bottle of Ribena, innit?! There’s a blooming Tescos across the road – can’t they just go and buy a pack of tea bags? C’mon. This is a joke. It’s not like they have to go all the way to China to get it. All they have to do is cross the road!

Worse still, I had to go into EAT to buy a tea instead, where they basically place a tea-bag in a paper cup and top it up with hot water. Then the lazy staff tell you that you have to pour in the milk yourself, stir it and place the lid on top… you end up making your own tea! This totally defeats the purpose of going to a coffee shop to pay for some lackey to do it. And the cheeky gits still charge you full price.

By this point, I hadn’t had a tea since I left my home this morning. My nerves were frayed. I felt irritable and grumpy. So what happened when I tried to order my tea in EAT? It took me a full five minutes to get the non-English speaking woman behind the counter to understand that I wanted a cup of English Breakfast tea. She kept saying ‘We no serve brekfass afterrr 10 o clok.” by this point, I’m practically spitting “I don’t want breakfast, I just want a cup of English Breakfast tea!” She’s still not getting it: “We no have English Breakfast, come bak mornin.” There was only one thing for it. I started shouting: “I WANT TEA. TEA. I’M TALKING ABOUT TEA. NOT FOOD. I JUST WANT A CUP OF TEA TO TAKE-AWAY. TEA!” I was about two seconds away from stamping my foot, bursting into tears, curling my fists and rolling around the floor like a little kid having a hissy fit. Just in the nick of time, she said: “Oh, OK. I undystan, you wan cup tea. OK. One cup tea.” And I finally got my tea.

It’s just a shame that after all that effort, I was thinking forget the tea, what I really need now is a shot of brandy…