I tell myself that I won’t go back. This is the last time. Never again. I deserve better than this.
But then I start to remember the good times. How perfect it could be. We were so great together. And I go back.
But this time is different. It’s over. Really. No don’t look at me that way. I don’t care if you’re sorry. I’m moving on.
What? There’s ice cream, too? Oh in that case…
(’cause Phantom Scribbler’s not the only one)
I have SOO felt your plight. Stupid tasty brownies.
I’m in a terrible relationship with pistachio nuts.
My 88-year-old Aunt Jean makes the best brownies ever (she doesn’t skimp on the nuts)and when she sends them over, I hurry up and eat them all, so I can get on with my life.
I had actually never read this post before.
But stick with them, honey! If you love them enough, you can CHANGE them.