recipe for love

It’s a powerful set of circumstances for love to bloom for two in the same place and the exact moment. I am in a strange vortex and this is not that moment in my life.

You know, I didn’t get a cake and candles yet again. Maybe I was feeling a little cheated after the wish conversation…no wishes for so many years save a wish upon a star once. So, I had a piece of pie instead and cut the tip to save to make my wish. Like they said the other night, everyone is entitled to a birthday wish. And, no, I didn’t tell anyone after I made it. I made my wish and let me tell you brother, you’d better be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. And, let me tell you something else, you’d better be pretty damn specific when you make the wish. I’ll tell you now, I wished for love in my life on the tip of that pie. A simple wish I thought. Not too much trouble, dear wishing gods, you don’t have to bring me someone specific…just love.

This makes me cringe for the stupidity of it…not ten minutes later over a kiss, the words were whispered in my right earlobe. It was followed by don’t be mad at me for saying something like that. I said how can I be mad at you for your feelings but I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same way for you and thank you very much.

Jesus Christ! kiss=love, love=death. Never mind about birthday cakes, candles and wishes. I think I’ll keep my distances from the wishing well from now on.

The Betty Crocker love recipe says: Treat  someone with indifference and they’ll tell you they love you. Tell someone you love them and they’ll treat you with indifference. Bake and served chilled with cherries.

Your grandmother’s recipe is different. A simple perfection in how the planets align themselves, warm winds blowing, bright sunlight shining through tall oaks, raindrops falling softly on the petals of a flower, snow blanketing a field…happening all at once. Throw in two parts flour, one part oil, egg whites and mix in your favorite bowl, bake at 350 degrees and wait for the dough to rise. Careful. No loud noises that might make the dough fall. Serves two for eternity.

I am shitty indifference. I am Betty Crocker’s right hand. Call me Martha. Give me my orange jumpsuit and lock me up for crimes against _______(take your pick, the list is too long).

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