Honey Honey

Let’s move onto a happier topic: my new favorite snack! Although I dislike the ingredients separately, lately for breakfast I’ve been eating… bread, cheese and honey! It’s so bourgeois! It’s so delicious!

I had this treat for the first time at my friend Anna’s house last week. We first started snacking on a perfect baguette that Anna’s ex-fiance’s little sister, who is a baker, had made. Someone found a block of Tillamook extra sharp cheddar in the fridge. I ask for a cup of black tea for a small caffeine boost, suddenly everyone wants a cup, and the honey comes out. Voila! Serendipity.

I vowed to recreate this treat after my next QFC run. My version? Grocery store bakery French bread (blah), same Tillamook, Wessels family raw honey. The bread is sub-par at best (ouch) but I am loving the honey and cheese! Now I just need to find a perfect baguette, or learn how to make one, and I’ll be breakfasting in style till infinity.

bread, cheese, honey, apple

But I lied. This post isn’t just about my fancy breakfast inventions. It’s about my last post. What I said is true… for me, but I didn’t really represent Ben’s side of the story. You see, I’m not always the easiest girlfriend to date. Sometimes I’m sad and lonely and want Ben to come home after work to be with me, and he wants to hang out with friends for a little while to de-stress. Sometimes my actions don’t have immediate consequences, and I don’t see their impact until weeks or even months later.

Last night Ben had a tough night at work, not least because I quit the day before. After work, he wanted to hang out with a friend to de-stress. He never communicated this to me because he thought I was out with Anna. I wasn’t. I was at home, tootling around, doing my thing, wondering when my cute little Benny would arrive and be with me.

I waited. I waited. I called. And once Ben got that call, he decided to come home as soon as he could. Not because he wanted to, but because he was worried I would be upset if he didn’t.

He gets home, I’m fine, he’s not, and this blows up into our one-millionth fight.

(I counted)

(no I didn’t I’m lying)

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, this is both of our fault. We’re trying. It’s hard. When I’m most in love with Ben, when everything is going great, I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Times like this, I think about the things he brings out in me I don’t like: dependence, slothfulness, TV watching…

I’m 23 years old. Some of my friends are married, some engaged, some dating, some single. Luckily, I’m not yet at an age where I’m the only one who’s not married with children. I’m young, right? Should I be trying this hard? Or is the real answer that I’m a grown-up now, and things are hard, and my life was deceptively easy before?

And how could I ever say no to these cuties?

And how could I ever say no to these cuties?


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About Emily Suggests

Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a christian brother.

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