You taste like tiramisu — you are bitter and sweet. (Valentine by Wendy Austyn)
Goodbyes are strange. I don’t look forward to them, but sometimes I do.
I hate how a familiar searing pain creeps up to my chest whenever I think about being torn away from you. But I love the warm fuzzy feeling I get when I’m blanketed by that hug you only give out at airport departure areas. I would receive that hug more often but that would mean I should bid you farewell more often, too.
Sigh. Goodbyes taste too much like tiramisu.