Dear Pizza,
If I have ever loved someone more than Zayn Malik (sorry Gigi) I think it would be you. You are the perfect partner and sometimes even the perfect crime (cheat days? I have cheat weeks with you). You are comfortable, you are warm, but more than anything, you are home.
I first met you when I was about three years old. Ma and Papa bought a microwave, and with it came a cookbook. The cover had a picture of you, colorful.
Red—Green—Yellow.
Ma tells me that I pointed to the picture with sparkling eyes, she simply couldn’t resist that look on my face.
So, there you were, the next day, on my plate hot and fragrant.
Honestly, if the smell of melted cheese and the freshly baked crust was a perfume, I’d wear it every day.
(I am very serious).
Over the years, our relationship has taken a million turns, but my love for you has been undying (even through all the crazy diets).
Your sides have gone from Cola to Diet Cola to Rum, but you, my dear have always been the other name for happiness.
So, before I become all teary-eyed and nostalgic (and hungry), I just want to say “Thank you” for always being a whiff full of joy (and oregano).
Until next time.Yours,
Forever Hungry.
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