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Home Arts Horizons Literary Magazine Spring 2007 Vol. 24 Chocolate/Vanilla - Annie Bellettiere
SPRING 2007 VOL. 24

CHOCOLATE/VANILLA - ANNIE BELLETTIERE

Chocolate/Vanilla
Annie Bellettiere

           Life isn’t like a game of chess. There are no winners in the game of life I thought as I deliberated my next move.

           I considered these two men. They were my past but only one would be my future.

           One was Vanilla, sweet and warm, uncomplicated, predictable. He made me feel beautiful, made me the center of his world, and was willing to devote himself completely to me. A mathematical engineer, he evaluated the risk and reward of the stock market and he was most definitely a safe investment.

           However, safe was staying in on Friday night to watch Jeopardy and play Scrabble. Safe was attending black tie affairs and holding my tongue during cocktail party banter with his stuffy, uptight colleges. Safe meant never having to worry about paying bills, perfectly creased pants and overly starched button-downs, gated communities and expensive prep schools. Safe was boring.

           The other was Chocolate--dangerous, reckless, with a temper that came out when he drank too much. It was with him that I learned that extremes are all relative. He was intoxicating and knew how to get me so high that I often wondered if I would ever come down.

           Everyone said he was “bad” for me. Just because you had a past didn’t mean you need to have a future they told me. He had hurt me so many times and I had forgiven him every time.  Still, he knew me better than I knew myself, because he looked at me and saw everything. He saw what I didn’t want to see. He loved what I didn’t want to see. He loved without restraint.

           I looked down at the ring on my finger and thought about what it represented. Love, fidelity, commitment. I took it off and slipped it into my pocket. I was sitting in his driveway. My headlights were turned off because if he knew I was there, he would come downstairs and let me in and that would be the end of things.

           They say that sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same. Well, how about when both things are hard? Then which one is the right one? In saying hello to my future I was saying goodbye to my past. Is the future sometimes more important than the past? Or is the past what defines us? When do you hold on and when do you let go?

           I saw a light flicker in his bedroom and his silhouette in the window.

           I slipped the ring back on her finger. I had made my decision.

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