I won’t beg someone to love me. I learned long ago that there is no use in hopeless pleas of trying to make someone stay. I am too good to chase someone who does not know my worth and I am too wild to keep waiting for someone who doesn’t acknowledge my value. I want to be loved unconditionally. I shouldn’t have to fight so hard for it. I do not have the time to prove to someone that I am worth it. I shouldn’t have to prove any of that; I am worth more than that.
Cakes have gotten a bad rap. People equate virtue with turning down dessert. There is always one person at the table who holds up her hand when I serve the cake. No, really, I couldn’t she says, and then gives her flat stomach a conspiratorial little pat. Everyone who is pressing a fork into that first tender layer looks at the person who declined the plate, and they all think, That person is better than I am. That person has discipline. But that isn’t a person with discipline; that is a person who has completely lost touch with joy. A slice of cake never made anybody fat. You don’t eat the whole cake. You don’t eat a cake every day of your life. You take the cake when it is offered because the cake is delicious. You have a slice of cake and what it reminds you of is someplace that’s safe, uncomplicated, without stress. A cake is a party, a birthday, a wedding. A cake is what’s served on the happiest days of your life. This is a story of how my life was saved by cake, so, of course, if sides are to be taken, I will always take the side of cake.