Bianca
Written on Nov 23, 2016
Love is a pie. It’s something you put your whole heart into. You stand on his doorstep and you offer him this pie that you have baked tenderly, and he picks at the crust, maybe takes a bite, then he gives you back the pie and says, “I don’t like this pie. I don’t want your pie.” And you’re left with a pie that will never be perfect again. The next time you offer your pie to someone, they know someone else has already taken a bite. Maybe all the filling is gone and you only have soggy pastry to offer. In return, all you get is someone else’s half-eaten pie because that’s all you deserve when that’s all you have to trade. Or you get someone else’s perfect pie but, by then, you’re partial to half-eaten pie, so you fuck up their pie and move on. First love is a show pie. Every love after it is a reheated delicatessen pie and it tastes like shit, because you remember what first pie tastes like and it’ll never be the same again. So, now you’ve learned to protect your pie and you’ll never make the mistake of holding it out with both hands again—now you’ll offer your half-eaten pie with one hand, while the other hand will stay behind your back, holding a fork.
— A great coming-of-age story about finding hope in a world that's trapping you in, and how facing things instead of running away is what it means to truly escape.