Where is my quesadilla?

I can't stop thinking about you Taco Bueno quesadilla.

Last week, you appeared in my Taco Bueno bag as if we were brought together by fate. I didn't order you. No, I thought the beef nacho salad and I were meant to be, but when I opened my bag, there you were. In your shiny yellow paper, you beaconed me to eat you, but alas, I had already eatten my fill of meat and cheese.

I remember taking you down to the 5th grade teachers and offering you to them. They too had already eatten too much. I peaked between your tortillas to see what you were -- after all we had already spent so much time together and I knew so little about you. Filled with delicious chicken and cheese, I couldn't let you go to waste. I knew you needed to go into the fridge for dinner.

So I carried you around -- proudly. Passing students called out to us, "Hey! You got Taco Bueno!" I announced that you were indeed a Taco Bueno quesadilla; a free one to be exact, and though I couldn't eat you today I would take you home for supper or maybe a late night snack.But that is the last I remember of you. I don't recall putting you in a fridge at the school or (gasp) tossing you in the trash. Maybe I got side tracked by an interesting conversation and left you on a student's desk. Or maybe I unintentionally set you asside as I grabbed other non-lunch items.

Whatever happened to you that day, know that I miss you and think of you often. I guess we weren't meant to be.