There's more where that came from, baby

Take a moment and imagine with me.

Think of something you adore; something you absoloutely love.

How about a Dr Pepper? We Texans have a great fondness for the bubbly beverage...it's just sweet enough, and when you get that first sip, it's cool and fizzy and oh so yummy. In that moment, there's nothing better. You love your DP and your DP loves you...the world is at peace.
But, what would happen if someone gave you one can and said, "That's it. That's the last Dr Pepper you get...ever."

What do you do with that can? Do you pop the top immediately and guzzle down all the sweetness of that drink, or would you prefer to just crack the top on it ever so gently and take a tiny sip here and a tiny sip there to try to make this moment last as long as possible?

I love my Dr Pepper, and I don't want it to go away. But there are times when I can't help but think that this is my last one. This is my last can of the sweetness I've come to depend on. And I want it to last forever, I want time to stop and the world to cease its spinning so I can curl up in bed with my Dr Pepper and never have to let go. I just want to enjoy all the sweetness and comfort it brings me and forget all the bad things.

Unfortunately, I can't.

Eventually, my Dr Pepper will lose it's bubbles, and then what am I left with? An empty can?
There's this hope that I hold on to, that someday, somebody will hand be a Dr Pepper and say, "Enjoy this one, drink it as slowly or quickly as you'd like, cuz there's more where that came from, baby."