So I had my first chocolate in a month at about 12:04 this morning.
For the record, I didn’t stay up til 12:04 specifically for the chocolate. Although, had I stayed up just for the chocolate, I’d have been massively disappointed.
I’ve been working with abstinence a lot since January. It’s a “Program,” principle but, more importantly, it’s a spiritual principle. It’s about letting go of things I once held so important (“Oh, I can’t live without that!”) and rearranging a life that is more healthy and connected to God.
And it’s just in time for the Baha’i Fast, which begins tomorrow. Considering how amazing it was last year, I am so very, very looking forward to it again.
But enough with spirituality; back to chocolate.
I had Valentine’s Day candy. I had been holding onto it since Feb. 14, so I had built up quite a bit of anticipation over it. It was one of those four-piece boxes, not too decadent, but yummy, yummy chocolate nonetheless.
The first piece was dark chocolate and strawberry creme. I don’t like strawberry creme. So I, of course, picked the chocolate off.
And I realized I didn’t like their dark chocolate, either. Not that strange. While I love milk chocolate of any kind, I’m picky, picky about my dark chocolate.
So after having eaten half the piece, I threw it away and grabbed the next, which turned out to be orange creme in milk chocolate.
Now I love, love, love orange and chocolate together. In fact, one of my favorite treats ever is this:
I’m also a huge fan of orange sherbert and chocolate ice cream together. Not mixed, mind you, but carefully layered in a spoonful parfait. It’s fabulous.
I took a bite, discovered it was orange creme, and realized that I didn’t like this either. I thought it was just the orange stuff in the middle until I realized I didn’t like their milk chocolate either.
This is Valentine’s Day candy. A staple of my life since childhood, and I didn’t like the strawberry or orange creme, and, most importantly, I didn’t like the chocolate surrounding them?
I quite clearly remember thinking that I must have broken my tongue somewhere along the way during the month of February. I tried to think back, remember any specific incidents which could have caused such damage. Other than a possible incident with a bit of too-hot-tea at the beginning of the month, I could remember nothing.
I was concerned, of course, but not worried. I, after all, still had two pieces of chocolate left.
The next piece was caramel, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Although I still was not a fan of the milk chocolate surrounding it (for some reason, the images of shoelaces and wet washcloths went through my head when I was eating it) I loved, loved, loved the caramel.
Of course, I wasn’t there for the caramel.
The last piece was some sort of pseudo-chocolate truffle which I think would have been absolutely sinful in its flavor had it been made with good chocolate.
And I realized, several hours later while I was happily eating fat free chocolate pudding (I was VERY prepared for the post-chocolate-abstinence period) that somehow along the way, I had broken an addiction to shitty chocolate. I managed to go half a month being in the presence of actual chocolate candy, and it did not drive me crazy.
And, although the last day or two was spent in heightened anticipation of the upcoming chocolate extravaganza, I never broke my fast from it, nor did I become inordinately occupied with the thought of it.
I’m not afraid of chocolate, it would appear, just as I am not afraid of any food thus far. (Totally new feeling, incidentally).
I am, however, afraid of bad chocolate. Much like bad coffee, it should be a cardinal sin.
And I don’t keep company with bad chocolate.