Loving Him was Ice Cream and Tobasco Sauce

January 31, 2013
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Green eyes. Green eyes with flecks of gold. They sparkled when he looked at me-most of the time. And it felt as good as ice cream tasted on my tongue. When he was mad, he simply didn’t look at me. And it felt as terrible as drinking tobacco sauce straight from the bottle. Many times I questioned my sanity, other days my head was too full of sweet words and laughter to think at all. Don’t ask me why, I couldn’t tell you even if I desired to. I loved him as much as any girl would have. His eyes flashed green and we went on the most wonderful adventures. It was ice cream. His mouth stopped smiling and everything was dark and I pounded the walls with my fists. The tobasco sauce burned in my throat. For every ice cream cone there was four bottles of sauce to follow. Tears stung my eyes and I struggled to swallow. He apologized and promised more ice-cream. Like a fool, I believed. We argued, we danced, we fought. We went on wonderful adventures. He ignored me. One day, I was eating ice cream, and as usual it fell out of my reach and rained tobasco all the way home. And when I was handed ice cream again, I threw it on the ground and poured tobasco all over it. I walked away and never looked back.

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