Dessert Tray

You are a dessert tray to me. I’m sitting in the best restaurant of my life and I’ve just finished a different but overall wonderful appetizer. I know the main course is coming, the best part of the meal. I know exactly what I want and I’ve ordered it. In fact I’m going to go back to the kitchen and cook it myself to make sure every detail of my life is prepared, simmered and perfected to my taste. And before I even stand up there you are; a tray full of all the wonders and excitements that will make my meal worth eating. Behind you is back packing in Europe disguised as tiramisu, and directly behind that is the career I’ve always dreamed of with whipped cream and strawberry sauce dripping off of it. Things that I will one day have but I can’t quite eat them yet. But you, you are right there just teetering off the tray. I want to grab you for fear that you’re just going to topple off the tray never to be seen again, or worse someone else will take you. I know in my heart that there’s not need to rush, you’ll be there for me when I’m ready or another dessert just as good will be in your place. I know that if I eat you now then I might as well ask for the check and move on to another restaurant. I don’t want you to be the dessert. I want you to be the bottle of never ending wine that compliments my life. I want to sip you lightly through the beginning of my meal and enjoy you’re distinct taste and the character you add to my life. I only want to indulge myself at the opportune moments. When the onions on my salad make me cry; or when the promotion I ordered medium well comes back bleeding, I want you there to comfort me. I want to taste you upon my lips when the appetizer of my future arrives on time; or when I’m ready to fully have my dessert, I want you there to smile with me. I think of you as a compliment to who I am and who I will become. Like wine, you can not become a necessity to my life, but you simply make it better.