1. I am sad that writing is so hard;
2. I am perplexed that no one wants my little book;
3. You are sitting in my fridge, alone, with no brave cheese guards to defend you.
I suppose, dear soy cheese (may I call you "Sheese"?), that I want to eat you because I can. Because I can unwrap you from your plastic suit, open my mouth and, well, nahm nahm nuhm. You see, I have the power in our relationship and I like that about Us. It's a refreshing change, I must admit, our funny sheese-human dynamic. I don't need an agent to chew you and I don't need an editor to digest you. It's just you and me, Sheese. We're in this together.
It's unfortunate that you're so delicious and not in publishing.