Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Dear Soda...

Dear Soda,

                You’ve been a good friend to me over the years.  You’ve quenched my thirst and brought me relief when I needed it on a hot summer day.  You go so well with Pizza, burgers, and just about everything else (except maybe donuts and spaghetti).  You finish everything off so very nicely.  Who needs wine or beer when I have you?  You look so enticing in your little aluminum can, frosty from a day in the fridge.  All good things, though, must come to an end and I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you my dear little soda.  See, my mom warned me about your enchanting ways.  She told me it wouldn’t just stop at one drink or two and she was right it didn’t.  She never let me hang out with you when I was a kid and as soon as I got out and on my own I ran straight to you.  You were everything you promised you would be.  I couldn’t get enough of you.  After a year or two though I found out that maybe you weren’t quite as good as you promised you would be so I switched to diet in hopes that we might get to hang out together for a little longer.  It worked, I convinced myself that your darker side was no match for the fun we had.

                I was wrong.  Your diet self was just as bad as you’re regular self.  I refuse to let you take me down with you.  It’s over between us.  I won’t say I’m not sad, or that I don’t miss you from time to time but it’s the right thing for both of us.  I’m grown up now, more mature than I was at twenty, and I see now that you want me to stay young and dumb.  I can’t.  I’ve seen what you can do to a body.  I’ve seen the way you treat my enamel.  The way you kill a penny left in your clutches for too long.  (what did that penny ever do to you cruel metal eating drink?) You’re ruthless and I refuse to believe your hype any longer.  We’re through.  Done.  Finished.  I’ll look back on our times together with fondness but know that I just can’t hang out with you anymore.  Don’t be sad, it’s not you it’s me.  I’ve moved on.  I’m embracing a new lifestyle and it’s just not one you can be a part of. 

                You’ll find other people, other kids to seduce and hang out with.  Trust me, there are other fish in the sea and you’ll be happy again.  Just not with me.   Good luck Soda, you’re not a bad drink, just not one I want in my life.  Good-bye.

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