I pressed down on the top of my Cadbury carmello square and watched the soft, maize-colored caramel ooze over the think corners. The thin, curved sheet of chocolate on top so very softly began to melt from the heat of my index finger. I savored this moment.
I nibbled the square wanting to indulge in the first bite, fully understanding no other would be as decadent.
Yes, I gorge myself on Cadbury eggs during the Easter season, but it has been years since I have treated myself to a full caramello bar.
I was ready.
I was willing.
I skipped dinner so I could indulge in all 540 calories.
I bit down and began to savor the waxy, processed chocolate.
Ugh, even a Hershey's bar tastes better, I thought to myself.
Here's the thing. I like food. Alot. I think it's part of the science behind why I run so much.
And I like chocolate just as much as the next girl or guy... but this? This caramello bar I have been dreaming of for ages destroyed me.
A couple of years ago I studied in Ireland for a summer, and let me tell you, Europeans really know how to enjoy their chocolate. I'm a chocolate snob. I'll admit it. I like candy. I have a sweet tooth. And though I would prefer a home-baked good to a piece of chocolate any day of the week, I craved a caramello bar tonight.
While I was in Ireland, I frequently visited their corner shops and little convenience stores. And boy did they have a spread of candy. I probably brought home about fifty different candy wrappers just to brag about all the sweet goodness I got to eat while I was there. But the one bar that kept me coming back was the Cadbury Caramello. Such an indulgent blend of creamy milk chocolate and golden caramel. Sigh.
So, of course when I see it on the shelves of the Walmart candy aisle, I want to pick it up every time. But until tonight, I hadn't. And I've been back in the states for a couple of years now. I think I just didn't want to ruin the flavor. The richness. The European-ness.
It's amazing how a product a half a world away can taste so different so far apart. But here. Tonight. Cadbury, you disappointed me.
There's something underlying. Something more. Something I can't quite put my finger on.
I think it still has to do with forgotten dreams, and hopeful futures.
If I keep craving and keep indulging, I'm going to forget the sweetness of the chocolate bar I once had in Ireland. I'll forget it's taste and it's texture. And Cadbury will become just another candy bar I stow away somewhere for everyday.
It won't be an exciting step over the threshold of a corner shop. It won't be the wonder of standing in front of a counter of multiple possibilities.
It won't bring the sweet memories of a moment: where I was, who I was with, what I was doing.
It will begin to hold my anger and my sorrows and my worries and my fears.
I ate the candy bar under false pretenses tonight:
I walked in the door after a tough day at work to find blood spots all over my cream colored, living room carpet, as well as on my tan couch. I might also mention that when I woke up this morning, there was blood trailing from the living room, down the hall, into the office.
The culprit: one, old-manish Greyhound.
JJ has been having toenail issues lately, and he constantly licks the quick after they fall off causing his toe to bleed and bleed and bleed. I keep forgetting to pick up liquid bandage and he won't let us wrap his feet because he just licks it off. Well, he didn't get locked up last night (my fault) or today (not my fault) and so today I proceeded to spend a good chunk of time scrubbing carpets.
When I ran out of cleaner, I hit Walmart up and grabbed a candy bar to drown my anger in.
Very false pretenses.
Do I do that a lot in life? Do we--as humanity-- do that? Drown our worries and fear and anger, etc, etc, etc into our memories? How often do we ruin a moment or a flash of a memory with what tomorrow is going to bring or the fact that we really cannot afford this wonderful date night?
I have chocolate smears all over my face.
After I so very, very carefully wrapped his foot tonight, I coaxed JJ onto the couch and tried to remember that first time we met him. And those big, brown eyes that hooked me. I also thought back to Ireland and the dogs I watched run on the sea bed every morning as I ran down to the Irish sea to watch the sun rise.
They were so dog-like: happy, carefree, indulgent.
I threw my chocolate bar away. .