Dear John Letter of Unrequited Passion - NC17

Dear Addiction;

We need to end this relationship.  It's unhealthy and obsessive at times - bordering on abuse.  I've tried to walk away, to tone it down, to find replacements for the worship, devotion, unrequited love that I feel for you.  But every time I finally decide that I've had enough and I was ready to move on something pulls me right back in.  And pull me in it does.  I dive into you with reckless abandon, filling every corner of my soul with you - losing myself entirely.  But, it's empty; satisfying me only temporarily.  Mere moments after you've gone, those feelings are quickly replaced with guilt, depression.  Why do I do this to myself? Why can't I quit you?

I know I can do better than you. I'm a strong person - but apparently not strong enough to be near you without caving to your advances.  I cannot walk by you without indulging every one of my senses.  I breathe in the intoxicating scent of you.  I long to caress you, immerse my entire being in you.  But, you abuse my love.  Lies. Deceit.  Abandon.  Diminishing feelings of self-worth.  You are a cruel lover - taunting me with promises of eternal happiness but deliver nothing but shame.  I swear you off, and then you appear at my doorstep.  I am too weak to resist your advances.  Your energy radiates off you and mesmerizes me.  Before I know it, I'm right back in. 

I can't keep doing this to myself.  I'm taking a stand.  It's time for you to go.  No more late night rendezvous.  No quiet moments alone with you twined around my soul.  Oh, I will still have to spend time with you - as is the nature of our world.  But it will become less gluttonous. Less consuming.  My next relationship will be far healthier.

Good bye carbohydrates.  Fare thee well.


Tracy

PS - Could you take this inner tube of fat with you that you've left around my waist?  Oh, and the donuts my husband bought this weekend?  Yes, the cookies too.  Dammit.  I'll just toss all your belongings on the lawn for you to pick up.  Don't come in...I don't want you to see me weeping in front of the vegetables.