My b/f is a burrito!

It's been a very stressful day where almost everything that could go wrong, did... I couldn't print my term paper, the Power Point presentation I spent forever making didn't load onto the professor's laptop, all of the escalators were broken, I missed my pill, I got a huge headache, blah, blah, and blah... So, it's after class and I'm deliriously hungry... So, what could be more comforting than a trip to the grocery store with all of its wonderful food products, right? Well, somewhere along the way, I get this crazy idea that I just need to have a burrito even though I've never made one before in my life, much less worked with using fresh ground beef (I've always had this weird thing with ground beef. Something about the fact that it could be any part of the cow unsettles me a bit) Anyway, I'm being a trooper and I'm now waiting for the seasoning liquid in my burrito mix to reduce so I can eat my dinner of beef and cheese burritos by midnite - when it hits me... What is that smell on my fingers? Why do my fingers smell like my b/f? Oh, silly me... I must be thinking of him again... I often start to smell his scent when I'm thinking about him or I miss him... it's my mind's way of coping with the loss... I love him :) I swear I can really smell him... it's so comforting... like he's right here with me... holding me... mmmmmm... :) Wait... what's that? That smell... it's coming from right here... from my fingertips! It smells like my b/f! Wait, no... it's not my fingers...

And it is then that my eyes turn away from the end of my fingertips toward the skillet where the ground beef is cooking... "Oh my gawd! That smell... the way my b/f smells... the smell I love so much... is really burrito seasoning!" So now, I'm freaking out. Asking terrible questions like, "Why does he smell like burritos? Is it because he's 1/2 Mexican?" and "Did he eat alot of burritos growing up and now it has permeated his pores for life?" Which grows into, "I should learn to make really good burritos because my Mexican b/f probably loves them" and "He probably misses his favorite childhood meal: burritos"

So, I'm done folding up my burritos and I'm deep in actual thought when I take the first bite of my first homemade burrito and that fear of ground beef returns. And as I sit there, disillusioned, wondering why the burrito doesn't taste like my b/f, I finally get it... I really am thinking about him... that wonderful man who I've gotten to know very well over the past year... I'm thinking about him! :) Here's a guy that knows me inside and out and is always there to cheer me up when I'm down or cheer me on when I'm happy... This is the man who can hold me when everything seems wrong and somehow, make everything suddenly seem alright... This is the man who makes me happy... who makes me feel happy for life... who makes me feel happy to be me... and I realize... no... it's not the burrito at all... not at all... it's just him... and I finally understand what they mean when they say... The smell of love is in the air