**WARNING: This post contains gratuitous euphemisms which may or may not be poorly articulated, shamelessly and overtly obvious and ridiculously pun-intended-in-all-ways-imaginable.

*Air-quotes are implicitly expressed. *By continuing to scroll and read you agree that any injuries resulting from excessive eye-rolling are the sole fault of the reader.

This is something I’ve been wanting to talk about for a while. Fear of over-sharing and potential hurt to those close to me were the reasons for holding back but I think I’ve found a way around that.

Many people, maybe including yourselves, often wonder why I get so angry and frustrated all the time. One day, my coworker J was listening to me rant about the Mental Midget of the Day. When I finally ran out of breath and shut up for a second she said,

“You really need to get yourself some candy!”

I was mortified. She was so right I almost broke down in her office. She knew for a while about my lackcandy porn cannoli of candy, since we’d chatted about it before.

You see, I FUCKING LOVE SWEETS! I could consume sweet, syrupy goodness every. Single. DAY! Every kind imaginable, in fact. There really isn’t any kind of candy that I wouldn’t try at least once… well, there are limits to every sweet tooth I suppose.

So why am I not getting candy these days? Well, my husband… let’s just say his candy-maker doesn’t work. It’s not that he doesn’t want to make candy, but he has to use other devices to get me the sweets that I really need. At least nobody can say he ignores my hunger for divinely sweet confections.

It’s been that way since the very beginning. When we were dating, I asked him if he’d ever even had candy before and he just laughed and said of course he had. Since his candy-mold never yielded a fully formed chocolate bar, I started assuming that maybe I just wasn’t the right person to inspire him in his candy-making endeavors.

But then how could he give me all sweets big and small like he so often did, with the other devices and techniques he used?? There was no artificial sweetener there; that was REAL! And it’s not like we NEVER had candy together; it would just dissolve in a mere instant leaving me wanting more…

We keep many candy substitutes around the house, but as good as they are and as talented as hubby is at using them… well, fake candy might look delicious and taste as sweet but, as with everything else, nothing beats the real thing.

“Well, he must have tried those candy-enhancer things, hasn’t he? Wouldn’t your husband be willing to give them a shot??”

J was concerned and figured maybe hubby didn’t know how to get candy-enhancers. But he’d tried them; two different kinds, in fact. One worked pretty well once, and he made me the most beautiful blue candy-bar of my dreams! But this left him with a headache and it never worked as well again no matter the dose. The other kind didn’t work as well and left him with even more severe headaches for multiple days.

I just couldn’t ask for his continued use of those things knowing how bad the after-effects were. He’s tried some herbal candy-enhancers but they are only intermittently successful… So we continued doing what we’d been doing all along. I couldn’t help but enjoy myself with him whether actual candy was involved or not.

You must be wondering if hubby can receive candy from me and the answer would be yes. Although my own candy-maker isn’t involved with hubby receiving his share of the sugar, he has the pleasure of receiving candy to the ultimate ecstasy of the most delectable sugar-rush. Picture me putting a lollipop in my mouth and… ok, maybe don’t picture that…

“So why in the sevenhells don’t you find someone else to get your candy from? Why stay with someone who can’t and who doesn’t really seem all that concerned with fixing his candy-maker??”

It’s so easy these days to throw in the towel; to make anything one doesn’t like a deal-breaker in any given relationship.  Candy is important in a marriage; of this I am keenly aware. I’ve had really great candy with exes and probably have at least one trustworthy friend who would be thrilled to be asked for candy. But hubby is a great guy and we have a lot of fun together; with and without candy-bars.

Candy is not the end-all/be-all in a relationship. Successful couples can find ways to survive with creativity, imagination and mutual respect for one another and this is what we’ve done.

candy porn choco figletI wouldn’t trade hubby for the best Willy Wonka in the world! Do I miss real candy? Hell yes.

Like Ben Affleck’s famous line in Chasing Amy, “…all you needed was some seriously deep candy-making”, I do often miss the pleasure of a fully formed candy bar. But I think my love for hubby and my infatuation for his exceedingly beautiful candy-maker transcends my need to frequent strange sweet-shops. We still have fun finding other ways to get our sweet on!


About LVital7019

Just your normal, everyday 9-5er. An uninspiring position in an inspirational non-profit moves me to constant goof-offery; aimless, on-the-job procrastination; a crankiness that borders on psychosis; and attempting to craft something meaningful with words. Just another so-called-job inspiring someone to feats of insanity with a hint of creativity... (Insert demonic laugh HERE.) View all posts by LVital7019

3 responses to “IIIIIIIII Want “CANDY!”

Use your words...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

A child shattered, Life beyond..

Just because you don't see the struggle, doesn't mean someone isn't drowning.. Pain of the mind is worse than pain of the body.

The Greenwich Village Literary Review

A magazine by writers who love to write for readers who love to read.

The Winter Bites My Bones

The Collected Poems of Dennis McHale: 1981-2016

%d bloggers like this: