A Romance With Mint

I was quite indifferent to mint when I first spotted you across the room, standing aloof in the checkout lanes. You were cool, refreshing, and enticing for the gum chewers. While they chewed you for pleasure, I chewed when offered or to boost my grade average. I used you for cheap studying tricks. I used you for stress relief. I used you when necessary. It was a dirty affair and I left at the first opportunity.

For a time I despised you in tea, disgusted with your cool duplicity with heat. I was indifferent to you in food, the hint of your light notes getting lost in the ignorance of my poor palate.

The years rolled on. I saw you occasionally. Partook in your flavor infrequently. Spurned you otherwise when presented with a tea or desert that bore your impression. The peppermint, double mint, and spearmint so carelessly laid to waste on top shelves, waste bins, and warm pockets. Gone and forgotten.

That is until last month when I tried you again. You were coated in chocolate, your filling fluffed with air. My taste buds sung and I was again addicted. Last week I tried your Moroccan cousin in a tea and my spirit danced.

Oh, how blind I was, sweet mint.

After all the wasted years and childhood prejudices, I see you at last.


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