sandwhich

So I am laying in bed, tossing and turning trying to force myself to go to sleep. Obviously, no such luck because I am sitting here at my desk top blogging... apparently about sandwiches. My mind is running, and it has been running a whole lot lately. I was laying in the dark and I start thinking about sandwiches and how the only truly amazing, classic sandwiches always paired one thing with another. Peanut butter and jelly. BLT. ham and cheese. I used to get an amazing sand which at a gourmet sand which place with brie, black forest ham, spring lettcue mix, and a cranberry chutney, I was addicted to it. The other day I had a pesto, mozzarella, and tomato sand which that was amazing. Michael and I used to go to an Italian joint in San Diego that would stuff pasta inside of a garlic roll -- our favorite was cheese ravioli in pesto sauce. If you are ever in SD you have to go to Devine Pastabilities.

What I am trying to get at is that every good, tasty, delicious sandwich, when you look inside it always has a pair (or more). It's the jelly that compliments the peanut butter. The cheese that makes the ham taste so good. I used to have my Michael that made me, me. You look at me now and I don't have my other ingredient to make me whole. I know I will always have him with me. I carry him around where ever I go. But physically, obviously, he is no longer here, by my side, making me whole.

Now I am just a boring mayonnaise sandwich. A stupid "i wish" sandwich...

I guess I am ok with that, I have to be. Besides, when I was a kid, I really did like mayonnaise sandwiches.