The Missing Piece

Courageous cookie! You made it back to the kitchen.

You were so busy with the holidays you didn’t have time to write about this mini achievement you happened to unlock.

Despite thinking you’d find it hard to get back in the kitchen (not because you’re all about that sexist phrase, but because food – duh!) you accomplished it.

You absolutely love pie. Pumpkin pie. You had to make some. And making some you did.

This morning you decided to have yourself a slice. Because you didn’t have enough on Thanksgiving. Upon reaching for the pie, you notice a slice is missing. And nostalgia is at your doorstep.

It didn’t even ring the doorbell, you don’t know how it came in. You must’ve left the door unlocked, or she’s an expert at picking locks. Either way, that missing piece is a metaphor.

A metaphor about how your cooking life was once complete with your partner. But he is but a missing piece now.

Those thoughts fogging your mind. Why? A reminder that you’re incomplete. But then you notice it’s but one small slice. Some mending still needs to be done until you become whole again. Because you know you don’t need anyone to complete you.

Blah, blah, blah.

You grabbed the fork and shut your thoughts up with the first bite of this delicacy. And you’re okay. Maybe you’re “ruining” your “diet.” Maybe you’re overthinking. But that’s okay. You have pumpkin pie and that’s sweet.