Dear Pizza,
We had a good run, didn’t we? You can’t deny that. True, we’ve both done some hurtful things. You clogged up my arteries, and I…well, I ate you. But despite all of that, we loved each other. Whenever I called, you showed up on my doorstep. When I was hangry, you cured me. You had all the makings of a soul mate–pepperoni, extra cheese, stuffed crust. You were my little slice of heaven. The connection we had can never be topped…not by pineapple, not by olives, not even by those little bits of canadian bacon you find hidden in the cheese; you know the ones. But it’s time to move on now. There’s someone else. Believe me, I know salad will never be able to make me feel the same way that you did, but it knows how to take care of my body. And it’s time that I started taking care of myself first for a change.
I just need a little space right now. Who knows, maybe someday, years from now, we’ll pass one another on the street, and maybe I’ll wave at you, and maybe you’ll wave back… But for now, I have to move on and be who I am. I just don’t belong here… I hope you understand. We may find a place in this world someday, but at least for now….. I’ve got to go my own way.
Maybe you’ll laugh at this letter. Maybe you’ll think it was a little too…. cheesy. But I hope that you will always carry a piece of me with you, no matter how small, just as I always used to carry a piece of you with me… a perfect, delicious piece of you. You won’t see me again after this. Forget about me, pizza, for I have already forgotten you.
….Ah, who am I kidding. We both know I’ll come crawling back.