*TRIGGER WARNING* This story contains graphic images of a woman sleeping with a string cheese.
Two months ago, my insides were rotting. I had a constant lump in my throat, I couldn’t take deep breaths, and I wasn’t getting laid. I went to the doctor to ask what was up, and she told me something I didn’t want to hear: I had to cut dairy out of my diet. The specifics of why aren’t something I can cover in this story — I MUST MOVE ON.
I knew it would be hard. I loved cheese so much. The smell of rotting milk was enough to make me miss college. Ice cream was my confidante; yogurt was a friend. But I had to commit — no more eating dairy. Still, I missed all those cheeses so much, and I thought maybe there was another way. A way for me to continue connecting with cheese. But no — I couldn’t. I shouldn’t.
I went on Tinder. I thought I’d distract myself with men. But none of them filled the void. None of them seemed to plug the hole that cheese had left in my heart. And none of them were going to plug any holes in my body. I went back to the facts. This is what I knew: cheese was the love of my life. I couldn’t eat cheese. But that just means I couldn’t get cheese through the mouth.
It was time to woo cheese. I moved slowly at first. Cheese and I had to get to know each other in a new way. Nothing super physical yet. I’d just walk to the grocery store and grope a few chunks of brie, but I wasn’t ready to take it home with me. I’d stroke the blue cheese gently and whisper sweet nothings to the gorgonzola. As cute as those cheeses were, I didn’t think I could take the next steps with them. But the first time I saw a pack of string cheese, I knew I’d met the six. So I committed. Extra-long.
I took the string cheese home with me. It was bitter sweet, because I couldn’t kiss the cheese (since that would inevitably lead to me eating it, which my diet would not allow). It would be meaningless sex — no intimacy, no oral, no calls the next day. It’s ok, cheese doesn’t say much. But still, I’m a romantic, so I lit a few candles, and inserted the string cheese ***************** REDACTED************.
And as I was doing that, the cheese said to me, ************* REDACTED **************.
And I said to the cheese, “I like the exact same thing.”
And that’s how I got dairy out of my diet but into my bed.