Dear chicken tender

Dear chicken tender,

It is my hope that you don't find this letter too forward, but I must confess what I feel. You, my amazing and sultry chicken tender, are like a mind ninja. You crawl into my thoughts when I least expect it; during church services, work deadlines, and dates with other people.

Is this normal? I ask myself. I've never been so consumed by the thought of anyone. I think about the crisp way you taste, how perfectly your seasoned breath feels in my mouth, and how much exciting spice you add to my life. 

So, hear me now my dearest chicken tender, I pledge my allegiance and loyalty to thee. I shall eat none other chicken by any other name, and shall only fantasize about you and curly fries with mayonnaise. None other shall cross my mind.

If you need just a little more reassurance of my love for you, allow me to paint you a picture of our future. There I am, old and grey on a rocking chair, and in my hand, is a miniature rocking chair for you, my sweetest tender, where I shall hold my breath to avoid inhaling the years of scathing mold growing on your skin. But I shall love you nonetheless. Of this be sure, my love for you is eternal, infinite, and unconditional. Words alone cannot convey the depth of what I feel. So say yes, say yes, to a life together and I promise to show you the most beautiful reality we'll create together.

Sincerely yours,

Ale