Candy.

I want some. I always want candy. I love candy.

When M. was courting me, he use to bring me bags of scoop candy. You know, the kind where you self-scoop so you can get as much of the good stuff as you want, like chocolate covered gummy bears and you can also just get one or two of something kinda nasty like those blocks of black licorice?

Anyways, I loved when he would do this. Sometimes it was on a special occasion, other times, just to say I love you. it made me feel pretty. ok, not really, but it made me happy.

Now that he's marrying me and fears that his future is now linked to my dental bills, he never buys me candy.

When we walk by a candy store and I squeal, he just says: "that stuffs gonna kill you."

He says it's gonna rot my teeth. I say go back to the nunnery.

Sometimes I long for the good old days when M. doubted our future together and didn't care if my teeth fell out of my mouth.

sigh.