Okay, dessert was unnecessary, I see that now. But must you haunt me so? Must you sit here in my limited-space tum at three in the morning mocking me? I get that gluttony is a sin and all that, I do, but you were so good, and I loved you so well, and the baked brie with apples, caramel and hazelnuts seemed like just the beginning, and you, little pear strudel with same lovely hazelnuts and caramel, seemed the perfect complement...or a nice bookend..or... Was I just deluding myself? Could it really have come to this: poor lung capacity and the impossibility of sleep due to outrageously full, slightly nauseous tummy? I thought it was so right, but it was so wrong, so deliciously wrong...
It felt like true love, but I see now that it was one of those delightful, illicit, slightly abusive affairs that one can't stop by their own free will. I suffer now, but someday soon I will be a stronger woman because of it. I will survive! You can't break me, little strudel. I loved you well, but you can't break my spirit!
You stalk me, hanging around in places you're not wanted, but it's only a matter of time before you realize that we're no good for each other. Really, it will be better this way. I'm sorry...I loved you, but please, let me get on with my life!
I'll never forget you; you have impacted my life in rich and glorious ways, and I'll remember the good times. You will always be in my heart. Not literally, I hope.