It’s a curious thing. Want. Love is like Carbs. No means no.
Just when you think you have recovered it rears its head. The desire for nourishment. Taylor Mali says falling in love is like walking a dog.
I say it’s like the biggest carb binge want in the world.
You see the bread. You want the bread.
Your mouth waters.
You feel powerless and weak.
It’s next to a lasagna (in your carb dream ballet). And a French fry bucket.
And you think about how just indulging once- just once- couldn’t hurt.
You say a small prayer.
You turn your back on the bread.
It whispers in your ear– “I won’t be here forever, take a chance on me.”
Then you bite. And it tastes like Nirvana in your mouth. It makes your loins rush.
You haven’t had bread this good- EVER.
Maybe this is the game-changing bread.
Maybe this is the one.
Then you feel the bliss behind your eyes.
It crawls up and down your spine and the euphoria is unparalleled.
(This must be right, you say. Nothing has ever satisfied me like this moment.)
Two weeks later you feel heavy. You feel spent. You are tired all of the time. The sugars from the carbs have made you an emotional mess. You dream in starch and toast. Every song reminds you that a meal is only an hour away. You long for touches you never knew existed before. A crust of Italian bread waiting for Brie…
When it is all (somewhat) over- (as any love affair must be)- you pine for the sweet crescent roll melting in your morning mouth while reading the Berkshire Eagle. The sway of the Summer curtains as they whip in the wind past your cooling pies. The feel of pasta, al dente, as it meets the largess of the olive oil and capers. The smear of the knife covered in salty butter as it smears on your warm, warm bread. This, you say, is the best it ever was- the best you could have hoped for. The one that you have to let go. The one that changed everything.
This message was brought to you by one recently in love and on a no-carb diet.
Good Night Bloggers.