Tomato Soup

It all started with a bad break-up. I mean, a break up of the very worst kind. Think for a moment of the most painful, heart dripping "slice-me-open-and-rip-out-my-heart-with-your-bare-hands" kind of breakup. Yeah - like that. It was July and hotter than Hades in Moab, where I was working as a river guide - eating most things straight out of a can, sleeping on the ground or in a hut without running water or electricity. Then the break-up occured. I had never thought of tomato soup as a comfort food, in fact, I had always avoided it when my mother tried to serve it. But my temporary friend who I haven't hung out with since this particular summer, I think because she moved to Europe with her boyfriend, introduced me to tomato soup. She was staying with the mayor of Moab - in her condo. The mayor, she was out of town, and you can imagine my drooling eyes as I walked into a real live apartment with real running water and nice leather couches, and best of all - AIR CONDITIONING. I took a nice long shower, changed into some comfortable clothes, and went downstairs where my friend had cooked up every type of soup you can order - each in a seperate bowl. Shrug. Who would have thought? We ate the soups, I cried a little more, and we watched a chick flick not worth seeing even once. And for some reason the tomato soup stuck. I can't ever see it without remembering that night. We slept together in a big feather bed, Me, her, and a very expensive looking dog. I got up red-eyed and swollen the next morning and she ran off to work, leaving me and the dog to a beautifully furnished, empty house. I took another shower and cleaned up the soup cans.
Since this day I have reserved tomato soup as my "break up" food. I eat it only in my lonliest, darkest, most self indulging moments. They don't come often - but hey, we're talking tomato soup here. . . who really wants to eat it?
Sometime last week I found a new tomato soup. The thought process went as follows: "hmmm. Tomato soup. That's the break-up food. !!!! I'm married!!!!! Oh my gosh - that means no more bad break ups!!! How did this occur to me only now? But what about Tomato Soup? I'll never eat it ever again?!" glancing over my shoulder nervously "I"ll just buy this one, the cashier won't know . . ."
I came to discover I had stumbled upon a whole new breed of soup. Progresso, Vegetable Classics. Hearty Tomato. (say it with an Italian accent and it makes it much more legitamate). With a full serving of vegetables and a good source of fiber. Tomato soup with PARSLEY, and real chunks of tomato. Last week I learned I LOVE tomato soup. I have returned to the store twice, each time buying the same - making this the third night in a row I have had tomato soup for dinner. I am not sad, I am only a little bit lonely, and Tomato soup is now not a break-up food, it is a staple.