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You make my mouth water

OPINION

May 03, 2012|By Jen Kim, For RedEye

"Hi, I'm not here right now. Leave a message at the beep."

Damn. You're not there ... again. How long has it been ... 12, 13, 14 hours now since we last saw each other?

Don't do this to me. Not after everything we've been through. Don't you know how much I miss you, how much you mean to me?

I know that this isn't a perfect relationship, and it feels like we're sneaking around, but I have no choice right now. Girls like me just don't eat sandwiches like you.

You're too manly, too gigantic, too meaty. If the folks at "Man v. Food" ever learned that a scrawny, 115-pound girl could conquer your three-sandwich challenge in half an hour and still ask for more, we'd have some serious problems. My mom would forbid us from seeing each other ... she'd say horrible things like how you're unhealthy for me.

But I don't care. They always say good girls like the bad boys, and boy, you are one badass meal. When I'm with you, I get dizzy and tongue-tied. My mouth begins to salivate. You are the only thing that exists on my plate ... my mind ... my soul. And all I can think about is wrapping my fingers around you and tasting every morsel of your being. Oh my, I get hot just thinking about it right now.

But when you're gone, I can't help but feel so painfully alone. I get stomachaches and sometimes have to run to the bathroom, it gets so bad. Never mind that just one of you surpasses my entire suggested caloric intake for the day. I still feel like I need you all the time, which is why sometimes I take you home with me. And when I'm not with you, I'm thinking about you.

What about my boyfriend? You may be called the "Two-Bagger," but it's me who is the two-timer. I know he was once your friend and the three of us all used to hang out together. And don't get me wrong, I still love him, but I had to start sneaking off to see you, because, well, he just wasn't into you anymore. He said terrible things like, "It's good, but it's not that good." Those words pierced through my soul like crispy French fry daggers. It hurt me so much that he would say those things, and that's when I began to realize that it was you and me that were meant to be—not him.

With you, it's so easy. You don't judge me. You let me do whatever I want, whether it's drenching you in hot sauce or picking out your fries and eating them first. I don't know if I've ever experienced the type of bliss you make me feel when I'm with you.

So please ... please ... pick up. Or call me back. I need to see you. I don't want what happened to my ex to happen to us. That would destroy me. You don't remember, do you? I used to see deep dish a lot, until he got just way too stinking popular. He'd make me wait like two hours to see him sometimes. That's when I broke up with him. He didn't care about me; he always put everybody else first.

But I think it's different between you and me. I really do. Please, call me.

JEN KIM IS A REDEYE SPECIAL CONTRIBUTOR.

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