Dear Half-Eaten Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich who I left behind in the basement of the theater,

I remember that fateful Thursday. After all, it was only last week.

From the moment I made you, I knew I would love you. Unlike other PB&Js, your bread was toasted and you had cinnamon dashed in among your layers. You were truly a heavenly creation.

Unfortunately for both of us, I met you when I was in a rush. You see, I was playing clarinet in the orchestra pit for the school’s opera, The Mikado, and had ten minutes left until call time. Quickly and carefully, I wrapped you in a paper towel, grabbed my water bottle, and rushed out the door.

As I drove down the street to the fine arts building, I was able to savor a few scrumptious bites. That brief time we spent together was glorious; your taste was out of this world!

What happened next is the part we both know too well: you went your way and I went mine. Call it a break-up, if you will. You should know, though, that it was never you, it was me.

Do you remember our entrance into the building? I carried my water bottle in my armpit just so that I could hold you in my arms - err, hands. Even when I grabbed my clarinets from the instrument lockers, I made sure to carry them on my back so that I could continue holding you. I really did love you.

Still, in a hurry, we headed down the stairs and into the basement of the theater. It was here where the theater department kept their props and costumes, and where musicians entered the orchestra pit.

I was only a few steps from the pit when I realized that there was no way I could take you with me. By then, you were happily half-way eaten, but there was no way that I would have time to finish eating AND assemble my clarinets. Plus, if I took you into the pit, your jelly may have leaked onto the carpet and handling you could potentially get my hands and instruments sticky.

I loved you, but I loved my clarinets more.

I had no choice. I re-wrapped you in your paper towel and sat you on a dresser. I whispered “I’m sorry,” and made my way into the pit.

PB&J, I couldn't stop thinking about you the whole time we were apart. Beautiful arias reminded me of the beautiful sandwich I had left behind. When a joke was made on stage, I would laugh and think of the brief, happy moment we had spent together.

I thought perhaps focusing on my music would keep my mind focused, but my stomach reminded me that you were the first thing I had eaten that day. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t shake your memory! Entrances were missed, pages were fumbled, and B flats became B naturals.

It was torture.

At the conclusion of the show, I hurriedly packed up my clarinets up and raced to where I had left you. After all that time, you were right there waiting for me.

When I picked you up, I noticed that your jelly had ran out of your sides and into the paper towel. In addition, your exteriors were now cold and brick hard from age and a lack of warmth from my loving hold.

I apologized for leaving you behind and proceeded to eat what was left. Although hard and cold, the time had not completely robbed you, for you still tasted like perfection.

PB&J, you will forever continue to be my favorite sandwich. No matter where life takes me, I will never forget the time we spent together.

Forever Yours,

Elyssa