Petty Pie: Best Served Cold (Like My Heart Now)

It’s wild how people choose to celebrate certain things—and certain people—while quietly erasing the ones who actually showed up.

A coworker buys him a coffee, and suddenly he’s “so spoiled 🥺✨” on Facebook. Meanwhile, I—the ex who still somehow gives a damn—went out of my way.Brought him food.Brought him caffeine.

Handled the favor he asked for.

No drama. No expectations. Just a quiet act of kindness I didn’t owe him.

And still... no mention. Not even a passing “thank you” on his public praise parade. So what do you do when you’re the one who shows up, but always gets left out of the credits?

You rage quietly. Then you bake. Because spite and sugar go surprisingly well together.

When You’re the Ghost with Benefits

Here’s the truth people rarely talk about: it hurts more to be forgotten by someone you still care about than it ever did when they first broke your heart. And even if I tell myself “we’re not together,” I still see the pattern.I still recognize that deep ache of being useful but not valued.

Needed, but never seen.

You end up being the ghost with benefits—lingering in their life, still offering kindness, still making their day easier…

…and they treat it like background noise. Like your love expired when the relationship did. But the worst part? You knew this would happen. You knew you’d be erased again. And you still showed up.

Because that’s what heartbreak does—it tricks you into thinking “maybe this time it’ll be different.”

It wasn’t.

So I Made a Pie Not for him. For me.

Because if I’m going to be treated like I don’t exist, I might as well get dessert out of the deal.

So I pulled out the darkest chocolate I had, the last of the heavy cream, and baked something that tasted exactly like this moment: bittersweet, rich, and kind of cold.

And since I’m not petty enough to key a car (yet), this was the healthier option.

Chocolate Petty Pie (Bittersweet & Beautiful)

Ingredients:

1 ½ cups crushed Oreos or chocolate graham crackers

¼ cup melted butter

1 cup heavy cream

8 oz bittersweet chocolate (let your mood pick the percentage)

¼ cup sugar (optional—but sometimes sweetening the bitterness feels right)

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla extract

Pinch of salt

Whipped cream or emotional breakdowns for garnish

Instructions:

Mix crushed cookies with butter. Press into a pie dish like you're suppressing feelings. Bake at 350°F for 10 minutes.

Simmer cream, pour over chocolate, stir until smooth. (This is the sexy part.)

Whisk eggs, sugar, vanilla, and salt. Slowly add in the melted chocolate mixture, whispering, “I’m too hot for this nonsense.”

Pour into crust. Bake at 325°F for 20–25 minutes. Center should be set but slightly wobbly—like your trust issues.

Chill completely. Serve cold, like your affection now.

The Moral of the Pie

You don’t have to burn bridges.

But baby, stop carrying wood to build them alone.

Let them post about their coffee.

Let them forget your name.

You’ve got chocolate, salt, and clarity now.

And next year?

He can bake his own damn pie.