by Nandi Spencer

Created on: July 20, 2010

Listening to this song reminds me of you. Putting on this shirt reminds me of you.

 Watching that video, reading that story, seeing those hats remind me of you. Eating this candy reminds me of you. 

You with your boyish smile that melts my heart and tells me you can do no wrong. You take this assumption of mine and run with it. 

While I’m admiring your ebony skin, you’re stand-offish attitude reels me in, and before I know it, I lose my motive. You said you’re too smooth to get lost in my eyes, but I never believed you.

 The fact of the matter is I’m as capable of rendering you powerless as you are me, so we struggle. We struggle and we fight because neither of us is selfless enough to give in to the other. 

Neither of us is strong enough to let the other take lead. I must admit, I’d let you take lead, if I thought you knew where to lead us. 

And the saga continues.

Then, every so often I lose interest, or am unable to give in where you want me to, and I tell myself I’m through. I’m through, and so are you for thinking I would ever go that far. 

That, however, only lasts a little while. Long enough for me to remember how adorable you are when you let me win. How much of me is lost when I see you. How much of me is taken when you walk away. 

Then I realize that I could never let you go, never lose this mountain of ambiguity that I am steadily climbing, positive that on the other side is peace, harmony, and chocolate.

 Endless chocolate.

 My addictive habits leak over into my sensibility, and before I know it, my face, my hands, my heart, are covered in chocolate. I need my daily dosage to stay sane.

Delicious and sweet, the only time I ever regret our encounters is when my stomach is aching after an overdose.

If only I knew why you were so willing to share with me that which makes me fly, only to snatch it away when the delight of satisfaction is painted on my face. 

Then I feel used, abused, and ill at ease. I turn, with my tail between my legs and run back to my senses. They cradle me, and give me faith. 

I begin to believe that I am stronger than my addiction, and I want control again. I think I have it. I am content with the ball in my court. 

Then you saunter up to the hoop, begging me to play a game with you. One-on-one. How can I deny such a challenge?

 How can I turn my back on that sweet, innocent, delectable chocolate?

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