Cake and cupcakes

Dear cake,

Hey Cake! Since your nickname for me is cupcake, my nickname for you is Cake. Do you remember that night I was talking to you about my grandmother, and how excruciating the pain she was causing me was, and you started screaming to me how awful she was? Or the night you told me you hate all women, with me as an exception. I remember all those texts telling me you loved me, and all those hey beautiful texts. I also remember the very scary couple of days you sent me through. Your sister had started texting me, and told me... She said, "He's in the E.R., he slit his wrists, and he left a note saying to text his baby, and you're the only contact as the name baby" I remember I had gone to my knees. I had gone breathless. I texted her back frantically, feverishly. She couldn't text back fast enough. She asked if I was your baby, I told her no, I had a boyfriend, but he and I are very close. She was upset that he'd called me that, and I told her this was the first I'd even heard of it. Truthfully, I was mad at you. I was scared because I didn't want you to die. Finally, I took a walk around the park. My grandmother didn't understand what I was going through, she never understood my pain. She never knew anything of me, I was nothing to her. But you are one of those people that mean everything to me. I can't lose you. When I finally got a text from your sister, telling me you had only lost enough blood to knock you unconscious, I was angry, relieved, and scared. When you were finally able to talk to me, I yelled at you. You promised me you would never do it again. Since then, I made sure you always knew I loved you. You're my best friend, how can I not? I mean, that's... I love my boyfriend, with real unconditional love. But I also love you, with real, unconditional brotherly love. I love you cake, and I never want to hear from your sister again, telling me you had slit your wrists. You made a promise.

And if I do, I'm coming after you.

The End

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