Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Why do I always hurt the things I love?

I've never been very good at relationships. But up until a few weeks ago, I had to work nights, weekends and street corners.

I'm just joking. I've never worked weekends in my life. But, I'm rather glad I got fired from my street corner job. I just wish the monkey would have let me keep the accordion.

Which brings me to a point – usually, I get involved in love-hate situations. And, I always end up hurting the ones I love. Take my adoration for chocolate for example. I do not want to live without it. While I'm not addicted to that luxurious stimulant, I have a daily habit of chocolate abuse.

If I'm honest with myself, I must admit chocolate is the love of my life. How much do I love it? Well, allow me to count the ways. I love it the first thing in the morning in plain, warm, liquid form. There is nothing better than slurping hot chocolate in between bites of Cocoa Puffs and Chocolate Pebbles.

I love it second thing in the morning when I order it from the mocha man. I can consume three chocolate chip cookies with a glass of milk. I will come forth to announce I long to see my beloved in heart-shaped boxes on Valentine's Day and in my stocking on Christmas morning. If chocolate was liquor, I would not hesitate to buy a fifth.

And B, I refuse to discriminate against chocolate. I like milk chocolate, dark chocolate, Swiss chocolate, plain chocolate, candy-coated chocolate and chocolate-covered anything except maybe grasshoppers. My philosophy is grasshoppers can get their own chocolate and leave mine alone.

I would never dream of inflicting pain and suffering on my dear, sweet chocolate – not even when my cherry chocolat amour is having one of those semi-sweet chocolate days.

One recent day when I overdosed on chocolate, I must have hallucinated. In my blissful, chocolate-induced state, I began to hear a strange voice that sounded chocolately tempting.

It happened shortly after lunch earlier this week, during which I consumed a burger, fries and a large chocolate shake. The vision began as I faced the dilemma of determining what kind of chocolate candy I wanted for dessert. Because I usually want an entire chocolate galaxy, I usually choose a Milky Way.

Because it was Valentine's Day, romance was all around in my taste buds, my stomach and deep in the heart of my Texas-sized appetite.

"I think I want some kisses," I said.

"I love it when you display your mirth," the chocolate said.

"If only you knew just how much you meant to me," I replied. "I love you my sugar pie's main ingredient."

"Well, back at ya, chunky girl!" my chocolate said dotingly with double chunks of almond joy. "I'm so glad I'm in a relationship with you. I have it so much better than my friend, Butterfinger.

"Butterfinger is dating some goofy guy named Bart Simpson. Bart reminds me of a cartoon character. But what's scary is he's real. And he's a possessive control freak. He threatens anyone who even thinks of putting a finger on Butterfinger. But you, Luscious Lips, are willing to share me with your girlfriends."

I'm really kind of jealous when my chocolate flirts with my gal pals. But, I did not want to ruin the moment.

"Can I have a kiss?" I begged.

"Do you want me plain, or should I wear my almond?" my love teased.

"Oh, I love you with your almond," I exclaimed. "You also excite me with peanut butter or white chocolate swirls. Oh, you ravenous Jezebel. You certainly love to tempt me don't you?

"Hey Sweet Tooth, this is your fantasy not mine," the chocolate said.

"I love the way you try to please me in every way," I exclaimed softly so I wouldn't wreck the moment.

To entice my friend even more, I lined up all the chocolate kisses that once filled a 16-ounce cellophane bag. Then, I was confronted with the ultimate challenge of which to choose as the first to bring sensuous pleasure to my lips, my tongue, my waistline.

I obviously spent too much time pondering the choice, which left my heartthrob feeling insecure.

"Are you ashamed of me?" the chocolate asked. Then my chocolate milked it some more. "I don't understand why you can't just accept me as I am – a plain chocolate kiss."

I was the one who didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

"Well, if you love me as much as you say you do, you sure have a strange way of showing it," the chocolate declared.

"I make sure I spend quality time with you every afternoon," I replied. "I spend a lot of money on you and you know it."

"If you really love me, you would prove it. Sometimes you make me feel like you're just using me for your own selfish, guilty pleasure," my buddy said.

Trying desperately to avoid an ugly quarrel, without thinking, I uttered the first words that popped into my brain. "Don't be ridiculous."

I thought I detected sincere emotion as my valued soul mate spoke straight from the heart. "I'm serious. Just look around your office. You have a picture of your husband. You have a picture of your cats. You have a picture of you with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. But no where do you have a picture of me."

Flabbergasted is too weak a word to describe how I felt while flying on my sugar high.

"I hate it when you have a meltdown," I said.

My sweetheart of a kiss gave me an ultimatum. "Well, if you hate me that much, just go back to that candy-coated chocolate that melts in your mouth and not in your hand!"

I refused to be dumped by attempting to appear as if I was the one who wanted to end this sugary relationship.

"Maybe I will," I announced.

"Well, if you're going to act like that, don't expect to see me in your stocking on Christmas morning."

Hearing that remark, I realized a lover's spat was inevitable.

"What is your problem today? Just stop it," I shouted uncontrollably.

Then my dear chocolate put everything in perspective. "You're so fickle."

"What?" the argumentative side of my personality responded.

"You hurt my feelings," the love of my life said, looking at me with dark chocolate temptation. "One minute you're chewing on me. The next minute you're cooing about my good taste."

Standing firm, I refused to let my chocolate play on my emotions. I tried bluffing. "You better watch out or I'm going to do you in."

Then, the devil tempted me to stop bluffing and commit the ultimate act of violence by biting off the head of my sweet love.

"Ouch!" the chocolate kiss yelled. "The vampire sharpened her teeth this morning."

I apologized, thought twice about hurting the one I love, and then thankfully, I came out of my midwinter's dream. Then, I felt guilt-free as I devoured a pound of sugar-free chocolate.