i don't really feel like fighting.

time-trusted recipe (aka how to forgive someone who hurt you over and over).

cookies:

3 cups of forgiveness, sifted

1 cup of dried memories

½ cup of tears (⅛ happy, ⅜ sad)

2 tablespoons of love, room temp

1 cup of ice chiseled from a frozen heart, crushed

glaze:

1 cup of powdered hope

4 tablespoons of betrayal, freshly squeezed

a sprinkle of second chances, to taste

in a large bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients. melt the love in a large heart over the rage burner, and add the ice. do not let it boil, or a catastrophe may occur. bring it to a simmer for a couple days; the longer the better, but no longer than a week or it will spoil. remove from heat and add the tears. it should turn a clear color with a blue tint. you may feel like crying again at this point. don't. you'll ruin the balance in the mixture if you cry over it.

slowly mix the liquid into the forgiveness and memories. it should form a nice dough. roll it out thin on a wooden board imbued with patience. cut out whatever shapes you would like. set on a baking sheet lined with frustration and disappointment. bake for however long you can keep yourself from thinking about them. to occupy yourself while you specifically don't think of them, pull out the hope and squeeze the betrayal. combine into a thick glaze. when you lose the battle and think about them, pull the cookies from the oven. let them cool and pour the glaze over them. top each with a dash of second chances, to taste.

we're out of second chances.

—we're out of second chances.

(the cookies are bitter. the glaze runs off. too much betrayal, not enough hope.)