To Lactose


On discovering that one is lactose intolerant.

To Lactose,

I Love you.

My mouth hangs open salivating and saying sorry at the same time. I want you, but I shouldn’t. They say that I don’t have to give you up, but I will feel better if I do. How can it be that you are not good for me? An intoxication? A corruption? When you dissolve in my mouth and slide down my throat with such ease? I miss you already. I’ll miss you forever. You’ll pop up in every meal and snack. I won’t be able to avoid the memory of you, all of our memories. You’ve consoled me, delighted me, been an enduring friend to me. I haven’t even noticed you there sometimes bringing me silent pleasure. That’s why I know you are special. They say that sooner or later in life the ones you love you lose. Apparently loving you has always been wrong, but how on earth can I now be right?

Lactose, the taste of your love will never leave my mouth.

Your beloved, C.

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