When There Are No Bites Left

What do you do?

That great sandwich - even that last Best Bite that you left to completely savor.

The final bite of the most delicate filet you've ever had, that you almost didn't want to eat because the sensation of it melting in your mouth was so delightful it stopped all thoughts of anything else.

A final spooning of the chocolate chip ice cream you ordered on bottom of the mint chocolate chip in your double cup, because you like it the very best just as you did when you were four.

. . . That - goodbye kiss. The one you may know is just that - or may not. Which is better or worse? And how are food and love so different, really?

The bittersweetness of knowing it's the last, or the thought of how long till you'll have another, bite or kiss - the tenderness of a goodbye touch that you don't expect to be the final one, or the forkful of goodness you think you'll have again very soon . . . 

What's left?

Well, sometimes, you try to make more. Surely, there's another recipe in your self-made cookbook compilation that you haven't tried, and it's bound to be delicious. Whether microwaved or oven-made, hastily put together or well thought-out. Another boy to kiss after a first date - or maybe just because you want to. Whether out of boredom, or out of hope or real interest.

Or not.

Maybe, the groceries or the energy to try aren't . . . there. Or maybe you try and it's not so tasty, or the attempt falls flat.

Do you put your apron back on, or fix your lipstick, and try again? 

Food for thought.

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal