Ramble: A Late British Baking Show

A oicture of a bulb whisk with white cream dripping from it. White text pn black background reads "Ramble: A Late Night Baking Show"

The kind of behaviour that they won’t show on Channel 4.

I wish I could tell you that the past 24 hours have been any easier because in truth, they haven’t been. I struggle to remember a time that I hated myself so much. There have been other occasions I’m sure, it’s just that right now, this one feels the most raw. It’s not even the first time that I’ve broken someone’s heart, it’s just the first time that I’ve done it to someone that I actually cared about. To someone that I… you know… loved.

Last night, I finally decided to get busy and make up the desserts that I’ve been holding off making for weeks. Okay, not holding off, exactly, it’s just that I’ve had a long list of things to do and a distraction and on the grand scheme of things, making up desserts sort of fell quite far down on my agenda. Not only that, but if you’re on the same lump of mud as I am, then I will have you know that Co-op make a spiffing tiramisu. What started off as a ‘pud in a pinch’ soon become a favourite of ours. Why waste my time cooking when I had conversations to have and other things to do?

I’ve never forgotten how to make my ‘tiramisu’ desserts. To me, they are just ‘tiramisu’, except that they’re not really a traditional tiramisu because they don’t contain any mascarpone cheese. Reduced fat double cream whipped into stiff peaks, I folded in the cream cheese.

“What are you doing?” Matt asked.

“Flying a rocket to the moon,” I smirked, “what do you think?”. He laughed.

“You’re making desserts. Okay, next question, why?”

“Cos… Santa Claus is comin’ to town!” I sung, giving it my best to pull some moves in the process.. He sighed.

“Stop being a little shit and talk to me…”.he warned. I smiled apologetically. He knows that I act up when I’m feeling painful feelings.

We talked for a while, discussing different things, mostly my hurt feelings and polyamory. We discussed my confusion, my angst, my frustration and my sadness, how two people that seemed so right for one another could be so wrong for one another instead. Like some kind of culinary therapist, Matt leaned against the wall and listened while I made food.

“Too similar?” Matt suggested. I sighed. If I thought all of these things about him now, what the hell did that even say about me?

“I always said that I couldn’t date someone like me, that. I would drive me absolutely nuts, and I was right!”. I exclaimed Well, I was right: Intelligent, opinionated, stubborn, sensitive, caring. The hardest part was realising that maybe I too am a little bit controlling,. That’ll be my next thing to start working on.

Letting go of control and delegating more? The very idea of it pains me, even if I can already see its benefits. I’m not used to being able to rely on other people and so instead, I try and take on the world single-handed. What was it lately with all of these revelations?

“You can please some of the people all of the time, or all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time”. Sound words of advice once received from my mother and yet still, even at thirty-three years old, they have yet to sink in. Maybe they’re finally starting to? There’s hope.

Perhaps it as the fact that I’m like my Mum, and in some many ways, he reminded me of my Dad? I remembered my childhood, I remembered the arguments that my parents used to have. They were intense and fierce and sometimes seemingly over nothing at all. I didn’t want that for myself, I wanted a partner with whom I can live and laugh and love everyday, just like my grandparents used to do.

If only we’d not fallen, I concluded, if only we kept it simple and devoid of any romantic commitments., Perhaps polyamory had been a mistake, one that had now cost me my friend.

The one thing that nobody tells you about dumping someone is that it guilts you and has you second-guessing yourself at pretty much every turn. I had to get out because I felt humiliated and used – and not least in a way that I enjoy.

But that wasn’t to say that my decision had been in anyway easy.

How was he? How was he feeling? Does he resent me? Did I make a mistake?

None of these questions have answers, and even if they do then I’m not allowed to know, because that too is part of my healing process.

Over time, therapy turned into flirting, and before too long I was reconnecting with the present again. I locked eyes with Matt as I moved to lick a drop of cream cheese mix from my finger. Innocent at first, but now intentional. Distracting again.

I licked the cream slowly from my fingertip, dragging my finger softly against my lower lip and allowing he cream to visibly rest for a moment on my tongue. Still holding my husband’s gaze, I tasted the cream in my mouth, swallowed it slowly and let out a soft groan. I smirked slightly to myself as his words fell silent.

“Has something caught your attention, Mr S?” I purred.

“You know what you’re doing…” he said.

“Perhaps tomorrow” I smiled.

3 thoughts on “Ramble: A Late British Baking Show

  1. Dumping someone does lead to that guilty feeling and feeling like it may have been a mistake. I always feel that way and then I remember why I did and that usually makes me snap out of it.

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