Bittersweet is my comfort zone. It sucks. Spicy is great and I want it all the time, but it’s never comfortable. Savory is something I can’t explain, but bacon is awesome. I’ve spent the last year and a half focusing on the sweet. The bitter is back.

I woke this morning from a fairytale dream. I want to write it up as a fairytale, but it can’t end with “and they lived happily ever after.” So I guess I’ll just share it as it is.

I was a prince. I was not the crown prince, as I was the youngest. It was an amazing lot of fun. However, once the king and queen passed away, my oldest brother took over and everything was great. The only thing was I kept falling in love with these women who only wanted a shot at being or birthing “real” royalty. Somehow I kept seeing past that and seeing how they really saw the world and how they really looked at other people. I kept seeing girls that would take good pieces of the world and incorporate it and I thought it was beautiful and amazing. Each of them would eventually “fall in love” with one of my older brothers because it put them closer to the line of succession.

Every week, there’d be a gathering at the palace and I’d end up dancing with these women. It went on forever and ever. My brothers got older, yet I did not age.   Everyone in the kingdom kept getting older, but here I was, stuck at 19. Years later, as my eldest brother passed on, he cursed me for never growing old with him. So did all the other brothers.

One day, I find myself dancing with this old old old woman. As the music stops, she looks into my eyes and tells me she knows my secret. She tells me that the reason I will never grow old is because I live in heaven already. She tells me that heaven is not a place full of perfect people. She tells me that heaven is a place where you can see almost everyone as perfect. She tells me she wishes she could have loved me enough to have said so years and years ago. She tells me that even more than that, she wishes she could love anyone as much as I loved her and so many other people. She tells me that if she could have loved anyone like that, she’d have stayed young and beautiful forever.

The music starts and we dance again.

Sure, it’s a beautiful way to see the world. It’s a nice story. It’s the truth. But why do I dream of such torture?

I am so sick of the bitter. I want sweet and savory. I want spicy and salty.

Bitter is the mind’s interpretation of high pH and sour is the interpretation of low pH. That being said, I am glad that all this bitter will keep me from being too sour in the long run, but I am on a sour rebound right now. I just want the bitter out of my life.

I get it. Read both of my poems on perfection or the perfect stranger and “Mary” and pedestals. This is how I see the world and my dream is my mind trying to soothe me and tell me that it’s okay. In the meantime, I am thinking of stuffing some chilies(jalapenos?) with a sweet cream cheese filling with bacon bits, breading them in a salty crumb and frying them up so I can get the other 4 flavors humans are capable of other than bitter.

Bittersweet is comfortable, but you don’t grow in your comfort zone.   I’m not 19. I don’t want to be 19. I would give up immortality and youth for one lifetime with the right person. I don’t care if that life lasts a millennium or a minute. The real secret is that when you find the right person and are willing to do the dance that a relationship takes, you both stay young and immortal. Sweet.

In the meantime, I keep getting this urge to call this girl up and sour up a blossoming friendship because I don’t want to see her grow old without me.


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