I can’t focus. There’s something missing, and it’s driving me nuts. Even more so because I can’t get my hands on it. I feel lonely and unsatisfied, and all I can do is stare longingly at a photograph and wish that this special part of my life was here with me.

Do you hear me, baby? I miss you. Right now I’m gazing at you, wishing I could put my lips on you and whisper how much I’d love to just eat you up. Lick you. Go crazy and spend a whole night devoted to you.

Sigh. And yet all I can do is look at your sweet face:

It’s not the same. I love you, Jaffa Cakes. I first tasted them in college, and after moving back to the U.S. I made frequent trips to an import shop in Santa Monica just to get them. Gradually I weaned myself off of them, because they were hard to find and making special trips just gets more difficult. But I had some while on my vacation in April and it triggered that deep love. I could run, I could hide, but I could never escape this passion.

And the effing import shop is out. “Probably until Friday.”

Curse you, McVities, for your cruel and unfair failure to expand distribution to North America. Curse you for parting me and my great love.