Riddle you this:
I bring it to my lips in delectable anticipation, all memories of our past flirtations swirl to the forefront. It is smooth and soft to the touch, perfect in the palm of my trembling hand. How I desire it! Beneath the cellophane it calls to me. "Oh, my darling Audrey! Come, take me away from this place!"
The second I think I'm finished with our time together, for it is gone and I am satisfied, I see it again. A new one. I long for its unassuming luxury.
(I apologize to all who have already guessed it, but my husband is sitting next to me guessing everything under the sun and I don't plan to stop until he figures this out. I thought he knew me! But here is what I'm hearing: "Is it biscuits? DVDs? No no no... FRIENDS. You already did one on Diet Coke. Carmex? Your cell phone? That IS your other true love." God help me. He just guessed "jelly bellies".)
My other true love is terrible for me, my heart and my weight. When I cannot see it, cannot hold it close to me, I feel empty and sad. Sometimes a girl just needs her fix, you know? It becomes an obsession. An outlet for pain in times of trial. A reward for reaching my goals. But Jonathan is jealous of my love. He sees how much it actually hurts me after each individual fling I have with it. And thus he takes it away, snatching it from my hand when I grasp it in the aisle in the local 7-Eleven!
Scroll down for the answer...
(Okay, he got it. Finally!)