Sunday, September 6, 2009

Another Kind of Love Affair

I just finished writing the post entitled Love Affairs (shows how quickly I am to finish a posting, huh). Now, though, I must confess to how closely such patterns with food imitate my real love affairs. How prone I am to letting relationships fade away--every night with someone, to once a week, to moving on to the next tasty, feel good thing. I get bored with men as easily as I do food. Routine transends into claustrophobia, and I question seriously on what I might be missing, and long not for a new recipe, but a freedom to explore such, to eat what I want when I want to, metaphorically speaking of course.

Hmm, that comparison made me sound a bit, well, sleazy. I am not. But I am selfish. And just like when it seems a devotion to a dish is winning over the desire for some other meal I abandon it entirely, so do I run from a relationship when it feels too cozy, too unthinking, too detached from me and my own conscious choices.

But I dont want to cook just for me anymore--I am ready to eat the same thing every night for as long as we can. Something so good everytime, not leaving want for anything else, unthinkingly without recipe, just feeling. And I think, hope, i have found that dish, love without the affair.

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