|The chocolate cake: Take Two
||[Apr. 19th, 2009|07:58 pm]
She's always half a step behind him, but the word chocolate cake had stopped her, and she wanted to finish the thought.|
She has stopped baking cakes a bit more than half a year ago, a time that coincided with meeting the boy with no face. He didn't real belong to this world, but she couldn't keep things separate and sooner or later, all liquids ends up in the same lake, only sometimes going through the sewage treatment plant.
Reflecting on it she concluded that the chocolate cakes were an analogy for something else, and a much more harmless pastime than the "Cheek kiss and long drawn-out, full-frontal, chest-and-hips-touch, linger hug, with
out the whisper of a hard-on" that seemed to break a lot of hearts, create a lot of thinking, and distracted her from school. She knew the recipe for a good chocolate cake in her head, could make a different cake if she was out of chocolate and though the basic formula was the same adjustments could be made along the way.
She never knew what foot to stand on when interacting with other people, found out too late what they wanted when. With cakes she could smell when they were ready, why one particular cake needed 5 minutes longer than another. With people (read: boys) she didn't read the right signals and...the analogy here did not fit, because while a cake left in the oven for too long is burned, boys can be patient enough, and will survive a longer cooking time. Those who do get burned are not worth bothering with.
Today she made chocolate-chip cookies. She wondered if she was being needy, but it wasn't for him to say and he didn't know.
She found a friend and talked, mixing the sugar and butter with her hands, licking the dough of her fingers, allowing herself more than was healthy and not really caring. She felt better, though no problems had been solved. At least she knew where she was with the cookies.