dinner and memories

I made a grilled cheese sandwich tonight, taking careful precautions to get just enough butter on all sides of the bread so it comes out perfect.  I added just enough cheese, on the perfect bread and put it on medium heat in hopes of what should have been the perfect sandwich.  I however, became distracted and let the sandwich sit too long on the burner, allowing burning smoke to fly into my nasal cavity and the entire side was burned black by the time i got to it.  Disgusted, i threw the sandwich into the sink and ran cold water over it until it became a soggy mess of congealed, black, bread – the hope of a wonderful desire. 

Again, I attempted to make a sandwich.  But because I was so frustrated at the first attempt, I didn't put much care into the second sandwich.  I spread the butter haphazardly, threw the cheese on crooked and the pan was already too hot by the time I threw it down.  I however, stood at attention to my sandwich watching it brown with just the right amount of time on each side and it became the best tasting desire I had hoped for. 

Now I tell this story because it is a metaphor into how relationships have happened in my life. the first, I tried everything to make the end result perfect and I let the security of promise entice me into forgetting to watch it brown.  I was drawn back from distraction by the subtle smell of danger that curled from the bottom of my now ruined sandwich.  Alas though, I discovered it too late and it was destroyed.  I threw it in the sink and cooled it, but there was no fixing it now. After a couple seconds of lamenting the loss of my desire, I threw it away only to remember it while writing this blog.

The second, I jumped into entirely too fast.  In the midst of the first sandwich and without the caution of perfection I could have burned the sandwich but I carefully attended to it.  Hoping to recover my loss. the second sandwich ended up amazing and everything I had wanted.  The thing I ask myself now, is, if i had only attended to the first sandwich, would it have indeed been better? or, does it all taste the same whether perfect looking or not?

Neither question could be answered, for the first sandwich has gone and the second has fulfilled my desire.  With only the question remaining, am I tempted to find out?  No.  Why?  Because the second, although imperfect tasted just as it should have. 

Therefore, I conclude with the logical response that sandwiches, like relationships don’t have to be perfectly planned, for anything, ANYTHING could ruin all hopes of the future. but relationships in which imperfection is allowed to exist but watched and cheered into the best it can be, can taste just as amazing as the hopes of the perfect sandwich. I also must conclude, that maybe the perfect sandwich or relationship lies in the imperfection but delightful tastes that butter, cheese and bread can only bring regardless of how haphazardly thrown together.

-Jackie