To Ms. V,
I'm writing to let you know (and if you thought you were the only one, I'm also sending this to Strawberry, Maple, and even Banana Cream) that you're not the one for me. You're there to give me another option, so that I can play the field and return happily to my love, chocolate. You're there to darken the night so that my day, which is, ironically, my sweet chocolate, is bright and wondrous. I'll never tell her about you, and you two will never meet -- no swirl cones or Oreos for this cocoa fanatic. The chance of you winning me over, the chance of you getting me to leave her, is the opposite of my waistline and daily calorie intake, slim to none. I go to you for perspective, for indulgence swims in the deep, mysterious waters of duality. Even the wise samurai found wisdom in his whores. Without you, my love of Chocolate wouldn't be as strong, and for that, in a way I love you too. But my love for you isn't pure. Your love serves a purpose. Your love exists on the secondary plane. It's sacrificial, created to exalt the love of another. I owe this one act of honesty to my love, Chocolate. I hope I didn't mislead you, Vanilla. I'm writing to confess, yes, but I'm also writing to beg you to be my pale slut for eternity. I won't change and, more importantly, I won't mislead you anymore. Let's continue what we have. I love you Vanilla. Help me love Chocolate, too.
Yours,
AJ
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