Waking up, sleepy. One foot lightly steps on to the floor as you exit your bed. You sigh - an anticipatory amble to the coffee pot - and the first smile of the day sweeps across your face. Feet dragging across carpeting and hardwood floors to the kitchen; you feel the ground beneath you. You welcome every single step into your new day.

You stand in front of the kitchen sink, turn on the faucet and fill the coffee pot with fresh water and, then, one scoop, two scoops, three scoops … shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh … shhhhhhhhhhhh … It’s ready. The first sip of the day is always the most satisfying.

Morning time is a chance to begin again. A new day ahead with nothing but possibility and promise. If you’re lucky, you will take your coffee back to bed, indulging in a second sip, a third. Maybe you plan your approach to breakfast, your mind taking stock of what’s in your refrigerator - eggs, onions, bread, butter, no cheese? Do you go out? Your mind filters through the regular list of breakfast haunts, who you might see on the way and, so, you decide that this will be the morning that you go somewhere new. Yes, that’s it. But not a moment before finishing your coffee in bed.

Wrinkled sheets, you move one leg outside of the comforter, the fan is on and you’re catching air. The breeze up your leg triggers goosebumps on your whole body; it could have been someone running their hand up your leg or grazing your back - but no one is there. It’s only you. A book and a glass of San Pelligrino patiently wait on your nightstand, longing for their chance to be sipped and opened up.

Call me crazy, but I’ve always found breakfast to be exponentially more romantic than dinner. I am, now, wholly sure, after 23 years of dating - that the way to my heart is to invite me to coffee or breakfast. To date, my longest relationships have been with myself, girlfriends and family. We’ve always had breakfast together, so there must be something to it, right?

Dinner can be so much pressure. It can be overdone. It’s common and predictable; what with food and drinks often leading to sex before you might be ready. Dinner. With its supposed romantic overtures and moonlight.

“He asked me to dinner!” Whatever.

My recent dating life could be qualified as far from romantic and can be counted in a sum of 8 late night tacos and 2 tlayudas. Sometimes post sex, sometimes not. I’m not proud to have fallen for tacos before actually talking and getting to know the person I was with - but I know better now. I’ll blame poor self esteem, mixed with a cloudy cocktail of booze, pork fat, the moon, the stars, a Spanish accent, the way someone’s skin looks at night and the thought of tangled sheets.

Tangled sheets that never untangled to breakfast; only to late night car rides home or, once, a walk home alone at 1am.

You want to know someone, have breakfast with them. Catch them in the morning and notice their mood. Are they kind? Jerky? Teeth brushed or not? Realistically, I think we all want to be seen as we are - without acting. I want to be seen in the light of day, bright like a sober sunny side up egg. No make-up, no push up bra, flat shoes and with PMS. Maybe, maybe, even with a little spot of hot sauce on my upper lip. Maybe a hot cup of sober morning coffee in bed beforehand? A healthy breakfast debate that leads to a shared side of bacon and bread? There has to be bread.

Is that asking for too much?

Breakfast: The Most Seductive Meal Of The Day