I was soulmates with chocolate.
Eating the rich dark brown sweet until my stomach became angry with me.
One afternoon my father was baking a chocolate soufflé that required
I had seen him use this mysterious bar
that lived in our kitchen cabinet many times before,
and always asked him if I could try it.
I wanted to be connected to my soulmate,
have the good days and bad days.
There was something about that time I asked,
where my father said
okay, but I warned you.
I dashed over to the light brown cabinets,
for my father to take out the bar
that would forever change my perspective.
He broke off a small piece, and handed it to me.
I smelled it,
expecting it to smell rotten.
I put it in my mouth
and started to chew the mistake I had just made.
About two seconds later,
the partly chewed bittersweet chocolate was spinning down the sink drain,
mocking me to always listen to my father.