Affogato afternoons, where the day softens and the heart sharpens.
I sip the sweetness melting into the bitter, hoping it teaches me something honest.
I remember I’m allowed to slow down.
Some afternoons are a truce.
Others are a battlefield,
Where I sit across from myself, letting the espresso burn through the fog I thought I was done fighting.
But here – in this melting moment – I let it all blur.
The past I’m trying to outgrow, the future I’m not ready for, the voices that rise like steam and disappear just as fast.
Because in affogato afternoons, I learn the same truth over and over:
Even the bitter can soften. Even the frozen can give. And sometimes, the only way forward is to let yourself melt just enough to begin again.
jacquelinelente.com 