Perhaps this letter is not necessary, as you and I have been friends for ten years and our friendship has overcome many hurdles during that time. But I know there is still one incident that has gone unspoken, but which I can still read in your eyes whenever we pass by a pastry shop or chocolate confectioner.
I am sorry about eight years ago, when I failed to share some of the Easter chocolate that Mom had sent me. I saw the way your eyes lit up when I opened the box on the floor of our room. First I pulled out some jelly beans, then a small box of Peeps, and finally, the piece de resistance: a Sees Egg filled with a variety of chocolate Easter goodies.
We had always had a passion for sweets, you and I. We had met freshman year in your room, where you were dishing out Red Vines and advice to the girls of our dorm. I admit that I first came for the Red Vines—do you remember those large plastic bins filled with 150 of those luscious licorice sticks?—but eventually I came to see you as a person, and not just as a candy dispenser.
By the time we became roommates sophomore year, I would have given you the last life vest on the sinking ship, sucked out the viper poison coursing through your body, or given up a kidney for you. But I have to admit: I never intended to share my chocolate.
“Ooooh, can I try that?” you asked giddily, pointing to a little chocolate egg covered in shiny aluminum.
“Oh let’s not open them now. It’s not Easter yet. One cannot eat Easter candy before Easter,” I replied.
That night, I ate half the box, then slowly picked at its contents as the days remaining until Easter ticked past.
I was wrong, and if it ever happens that you are around when Mom sends a care package, I will at least go out and buy you your own chocolate so that we can eat it together.
Categories: chocolate, Sees, easter, evil