I Don't Know How To Throw Away My Potato Soup (Find Love)

And my counselors, mentors, and friends can't seem to help me

One week, right in the middle of winter this year, I developed an insatiable craving for potato soup. I do not know from where it came, nor what purpose it may have served, but all of sudden – BAM! – it appeared right at the forefront of my stack of desires.

That week, I cooked a full gallon of potato soup. Do you know how much a gallon of soup is? Especially for one person? It’s a ridiculous amount.

This potato soup was unparalleled in its magnificence. It included:

• Four different types of grated cheese – asiago, parmesan, mozzarella, and cheddar

• Mashed roasted garlic that came from my neighbor’s garden

• Fresh leeks and dried parsley harvested from my friend’s homestead

• Heavy cream from the Amish cow farm ten miles down south

For five days straight, beginning Sunday, I ate exclusively¹ this benediction of homemade potato soup. It was the only thing that satisfied my hunger.

And, then, as quickly as the craving appeared, on Friday evening it departed; with no warning or salutation; with not a trace nor a sign that it would return ever again.

Unfortunately, at the conclusion of this saga, there were about two servings left of this spudly concoction. I was hoping that I would be in the mood to finish it up, but a small plastic container of potato soup remains at the back of my fridge. It has sat there for four weeks now.

I am sure that by this point it has collected all sorts of nasty bacterial substances. I have been too afraid to take it out and look at it or smell it, which means that I have not been able to throw it out and clean the container. If I don’t throw it out soon, the entire fridge will soon start smelling like rancid tater tots. I could throw the whole container away, but then I would need to buy a replacement since I don’t have another container of that specific size. This container was originally given to me, and I would rather not buy another plastic one for environmental and personal health reasons. Glass tupperware is more expensive and I’m not making too much money right now. Furthermore, glass-over-plastic signifies investment – it is a sign that I’m committing to staying where I am. I am not planning to stay in this house forever, and when I move, a glass bowl will be one more thing to keep and transport. Don’t underestimate how quickly small purchases accumulate into a giant heap!

There are a lot of therapists in the world who specialize in a lot of different areas of practice. Try finding a therapist who specializes in “throwing away potato soup without driving yourself crazy”.

What seems to be the problem?

“Well you see, buying a slightly more unaffordable glass container to replace my plastic one indicates that I’m committing to building a life in this place, and I’m not willing to do that because I’m lonely, even if it’s the only acceptable way I can deal with the fact that potato soup is rotting in my fridge.”

I am not being facetious. The fact is that the most difficult parts of my life are basically throwing-away-potato-soup problems that make me miserable. They are situations that require action from me yet they are tied up in all kinds of weird mental programming, emotional hangups, spiritual confusion, and financial worries that I am struggling to address and move beyond so that I do not languish in stagnancy.

If you want an urgent, non-frivolous example of a potato soup problem, consider the fact that I’m unhappily single, and that I dearly want to find a spouse, but that my spouse must be:

1. Someone who has enough humility and openness to respect my Tamilian-Shaivite heritage, and thus reasonably ingratiate himself to my worldview, without being a credulous idiot. This means avoiding succumbing to the trap of Silicon Valley-rationalist-jhana spirituality, the trap of Bible-thumping missionary evangelism, or the trap of right-wing Twitter-anon Gooncavery; also respecting my vegetarian vegetarian-ish² Dharma.

2. Someone who is going to get along with my parents to a sufficient degree that they consider him a genuine son-in-law, and whose parents consider me a genuine son-in-law. My mom was not considered a genuine daughter-in-law, and she suffered terrible verbal abuse from my paternal grandmother because of it, despite my father’s best efforts to mediate. My ex-boyfriend was completely cut off by his parents, and the last I knew, they still refuse to speak to him or let him come home.

3. Someone who is not a San Francisco Grindr queer that builds shrines to Oprah and Taylor Swift in between drag shows (i.e., do you as a man respect your body and mind enough to commit to another man for life?)

4. Someone who takes kindly to the powerful visions that I have for our life together, e.g., finding a property on which we can design and build a house for our children, and our farm animals, and our swimming pool and gun range and flower field, and for our friends who come visit during the holidays bringing glad tidings.

5. Someone whose life I am ready and willing to be a part of in a full-fledged way, to whom I am not afraid to grant my whole heart. Full transparency: I am still dealing with the grief from my last breakup, though it is less tender after several years. I loved him deeply. We used to work on cars together. This is the first year I have been able to work on my car myself without breaking down into tears.

And someone who meets maybe three to seven other criteria³ that I am not able to articulate as of yet.

Look, I know that some of these things are silly or negotiable and that I may be making things harder than necessary for myself. But I’m a decent, intelligent, open-minded, adaptable fellow who is having a lot of trouble, and it’s discouraging. I would have already thrown away my leftover potato soup if I knew of a way to do so.

If you’re someone who can commiserate with the potato-shaped blackhole of experience, please be my friend. Better yet, if you want to earn my loyalty and gratitude for life, find me a handsome groom who will fill it up for me⁴.

1. Well, nearly exclusively. I made sure to supplement with some fiber to avoid constipation.

2. Now, and omnivorous diet as of late 2024, when I started cooking food with locally sourced meat and incorporating it into my diet on a regular basis.

3. This list doesn’t address the basics of physical attraction, age, education, etc.

4. Unintentional double-entendre, but I’m keeping it.