Dear X,

We first met a year ago through a friend. I had no idea what I was looking for at the time and you seemed to be the best pick of the bunch. You were never an acquired taste. I know everybody thinks you’re the most disgusting thing on the menu, being a weird shade of green and all, but that’s okay. I love you, and my love is all that matters. Seriously. Fuck all the lame pink-and-orange drinks. Looks like fucking vomit anyway. It’s you I love.

Yours,
Karen

Ps. I’m so glad you dropped that Melon Syrup bitch. She was no good for you. I am.

(Yes, this is the ode to Starbucks’s Green Tea Latte)

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