Pizza- A love story.

Dum dee dum... Wait, is this thing on? Oh hi. It's me the author. This is supposed to be silly. It's a story about me eating a pizza in the most ridiculously romantic way possible. It gets a little, heh heh, saucy, but in a funny way. Enjoy!

I lie in wait.
Yearning.
Longing.
Hungering.
The doorbell rings as the intoxicating aroma attaches itself to my nostrils. With a promising looking box, a man in uniform stands outside my door. I thank him, pay him, and he leaves, though I keep the box. The box and I are alone at last.
My finger slides into an indent in the cardboard box, and lifts the lid. A single, golden strand of cheese stretches from top to bottom, indecisive. It snaps, leaving a molten trace on the top, the rest melting deeper, deeper into the depths of gold. I pull off a warm, brown slice of the doughy, creamy, circle of life.
I'm hungry...hungry for this.
My teeth sink deep into the pointed edge. An unimaginable pleasure courses through my mouth, and as I swallow, warmth falls through my throat. Another bite, another pure wave of pulsing joy.
• • •
Author's note- I would describe more, but seriously, it's pretty much that gross the entire time. I'll skip to after four or five slices, when the relationship turns sour.
• • •
It hurts.
My love has wounded me, leaving nothing but a pain in my stomach.
Might I take another slice, a moment of pure pleasure, but only followed by more pain, and another bit of my love gone.
Another.
More pain.
Another.
Searing.
Until it's gone.
My love left, consumed by my deepest passions, leaving me with a raging ache in my chest, and a sour taste in my mouth.
It's over.

EPILOGUE
The next night, searching for the good times again, though my brain tells me not to, my heart makes me find Pizza Hut in the phone book again.
So repeats forever the cycle of pain and pleasure.
The underlying theme?
Pizza good.