I've been having some untoward feelings lately. Feelings of a lustful, forbidden nature.
Sometimes I lie awake at night thinking about our future together, even though we have only known each other a short while. There are times when I even lose sleep considering the possibility that you could be what I've been looking for my whole life. Perhaps you will make me come alive in a way that I simply haven't done on my own.
I'm getting bolder by the day. Now I whisper your name to myself all the time - a little secret that only I know. I mutter it in line at the post office. While driving down the Thruway. In the bathroom:
"Smoked Gouda."
I've loved a lot of other cheeses, but there is just something about you that I'm drawn to - maybe the fact that you're smoked makes you seem rebellious, like kind of a bad ass.
I don't know. But I imagine some very unladylike scenarios, starring the two of us. You sandwiched between two pieces of buttery, golden bread, melted...Maybe with some apples or even caramelized onions in there.
Or an omelet, with spinach, pepper and you, drenched in a deluge of Hollandaise sauce.
Oh, the things I would do to you!
But I'm getting carried away, here; let me just cut to the chase.
Gouda, I really think that we could make this work...Like just the two of us, you know? In a romantic capacity.
I promise I won't make fun of you when you start to sprout mold after a couple of weeks, and I won't lock you in the basement this time if I find cigarettes or autographed Katy Perry pics in your backpack.
I guess what I'm trying to say here is that there's just no one else that tastes quite as good as you do.
So....Will you be mine?
xo,
Jess.
Sometimes I lie awake at night thinking about our future together, even though we have only known each other a short while. There are times when I even lose sleep considering the possibility that you could be what I've been looking for my whole life. Perhaps you will make me come alive in a way that I simply haven't done on my own.
I'm getting bolder by the day. Now I whisper your name to myself all the time - a little secret that only I know. I mutter it in line at the post office. While driving down the Thruway. In the bathroom:
"Smoked Gouda."
I've loved a lot of other cheeses, but there is just something about you that I'm drawn to - maybe the fact that you're smoked makes you seem rebellious, like kind of a bad ass.
I don't know. But I imagine some very unladylike scenarios, starring the two of us. You sandwiched between two pieces of buttery, golden bread, melted...Maybe with some apples or even caramelized onions in there.
Or an omelet, with spinach, pepper and you, drenched in a deluge of Hollandaise sauce.
Oh, the things I would do to you!
But I'm getting carried away, here; let me just cut to the chase.
Gouda, I really think that we could make this work...Like just the two of us, you know? In a romantic capacity.
I promise I won't make fun of you when you start to sprout mold after a couple of weeks, and I won't lock you in the basement this time if I find cigarettes or autographed Katy Perry pics in your backpack.
I guess what I'm trying to say here is that there's just no one else that tastes quite as good as you do.
So....Will you be mine?
xo,
Jess.
