Dear Food. I am breaking up with you. You are only causing me pain and misery, and an uncomfortable feeling where my belly meets the waistband of my pants. I cannot continue this love affair any longer. How you tempt me with your decadent chocolate. The scandalous way you tease my tastebuds with your salty pleasures. The way you mock me with word like “low-fat” or “gluten-free” or “100% pure whatever,” and then hide ingredients I can’t even pronounce that must be Greek for “will give girth to your ass” or “kiss whatever dreams you had of wearing a bikini goodbye…”
Thing is, we had it good, you and I. That time I licked that BBQ rib you gave me completely clean of all its glorious, saucy goodness. The day we discovered the cupcakery right across the street from my office. Every single time when one of my co-workers retired, and I had to eat cake in their honor. The moment when a light shone down from Heaven, revealing that the vending machine in my office does in fact take credit card. The juicy hamburgers. The cheesy enchiladas. The turkey and avocado subs smothered with mayo. The single serve packets of trail mix….all five of them. The Starbucks coffee drink. The chocolate. The Chocolate. The CHOCOLATE…
Stop it! Stop tempting me! You cannot have me back, even with your charming good looks, irresistible scent, and hard-to-resist taste! This is too unhealthy of a relationship, I must break up with you. When I’m with you, I only feel guilty. When I’m not, I can’t think of anything else but you. You give me empty promises, but never give me what I need. You only leave me wanting more. And when I give in to you, you use me up and then spit me out, leaving me to feel washed up and out of control, and questioning why I give in to you every single time.
So Food, it’s over. I am leaving you for something much better for me, like your healthier cousin, veggies and water. And we’ll do fun things together like running or biking or swimming. Remember those things? No, you don’t, because you only wanted to hang out on the couch and make out in front of the TV, tempting me with sugary cereals and bags of Doritos.
Please lose my number, and don’t try to find me. I’m about to become an all new woman. And I can’t have you standing in my way.
(But if you want to visit me on special occasions, I’m sure I can fit in a cheat day, right? Right?)