Quite recently, I had a falling out with my boyfriend. I’m 22 years old, so heartbreak has been around more than a few times. When he strikes again, I’m sure to cancel my plans for the evening, buy some chocolate and a cheap bottle of wine. And together, we eat and drink and philosophize what it means to love someone. He is such a cynic about it all, but then I unwrap one of those Dove dark chocolates and hope is restored, not just from the uplifting sweet taste but from the words that are stamped on the inside of the foil – inspirational words about Love.
The most recent chocolate I ate and unwrapped suggested that I “Get swept away by Love,” which, in the sniffles and hiccups of my sobbing, seemed to be a bad joke by the housemaids of the world. Even Cinderella couldn’t turn that one around.
Brooms and waves and occasionally a winning baseball team, those are the things that sweep. Not love. For the objects at the receiving end of the sweeping – it never ends good. Dirt from a filthy floor ends up in a dustpan or a swimmer caught in a riptide ends up god-knows-where or the losing team ends up defeated. In my current crisis of the heart, that was exactly how I was feeling about love. That being said, I don’t want to think someone who is loved is meant to find the same kind of end. So thank you for trying to make me feel better, Dove Chocolate, but I’ll do all I can to remain UN-swept up by Love.