From the moment we met, when I first laid eyes on you as a child, I was hopelessly in love. I knew then that I must have you. As I grew older, my devotion never wavered. Sure, I strayed from time to time and experimented with others. I loved them too… but never the same way. You were my first and truest love.

On the coldest days, I would whisper to you softly, taking my time. No matter how frozen or resistant you tried to be, eventually, you would melt in my hands.

Over the years, we grew together in a dangerous little dance of sweet seduction. A taste here, a taste there whenever we could steal a moment alone. Every now and then, some flashy new beauty would appear behind the glass of temptation, showing off impossible curves and exotic flavors. Of course, I gave them a try. I’m only human. But deep down, we both knew those flings meant nothing.

Summer was always our season.

We would spend long afternoons together at the beach, your sweet creamy fragrance drifting through the air like perfume. Then came those late nights of reckless passion. Sometimes I would drizzle chocolate on you just to spice things up a little. Occasionally, whipped cream entered the relationship. There were no rules between us anymore.

I would tell myself I had enough, yet somehow I was always craving more.

And though age has slowed many things in my life, my desire for you remains embarrassingly intact. Some nights, long after everyone else is asleep, I still find myself standing barefoot in front of the freezer light like a man making terrible but necessary decisions.

Until our next forbidden encounter, my sweet love, know this: I will always be yours.

It’s ice cream.

Relax. This is a family blog.

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