on again?

dear falafel roll from the sandwich shop in the arcade,

i've been a fool.

i miss your hot, oozing sauce; i miss your soft, moist balls; and most of all i miss the way you made me feel:

satisfied, and yet always wanting more.

for the first time in my life i think i actually understand what joni mitchell meant in that song about the parking lot and the taxi and putting all the trees in museums and stuff.

i guess you really don't know what you've got 'til its gone/you stop buying it for lunch for a year or so.

and so i have decided that we should give "us" another try.

if you're up for it, that is.

i'm older now. wiser too. and i promise never to take you for granted again.

i've been trying to think of the perfect apology, but have thus far failed to come up with the right words.

thus i will employ the words of another, more qualified wordsmith:

mr. gary barlow.

and so in barlow's words, from his days as a bonafide, mesh-wearing member of 'take that' (you know, that group robbie williams' was in before he was a megastar):

whatever i said, whatever i did i didn't mean it.
i just want you back for good.

(want you back, want you back, want you back for goo-ood.)

so, waddya say? can we start over?

i'll be at the shop tomorrow around one o'clock. you can give me your answer then.

love and extra chilli sauce,

la nadine.

x