It's Not Me, It's You.

Dear Cheese.

Ok, it's not cheese, but I probably shouldn't be drinking Bloody Maries, either.

I have to break up with you. I know, I know. You didn't see this coming, did you? I'm sorry, darling, and trust me, my life will be a little less wonderful without you.

It seems we have let our relationship get out of control. I suppose people are right when they say that there really can be too much of a good thing, a notion I have always eschewed. You have been so good to me - so delicious and versatile. You go as well with apples as you do with french bread. I love you by yourself or out on the town. But I received a phone call today that was a little bit alarming.

Apparently, you have been camping out in my blood stream. What are you thinking? I eat my fiber, vegetables, and exercise with vigor. This should be enough to keep our relationship moderate. But elevating my cholesterol? At age 37? That is just not right, cheese, in fact it is downright creepy.

This relationship is not healthy. You aren't good for me anymore. I will be thinking about you - you know I will. But, if you see me in the store giving you a sidelong stare, let me go, ok? Just let me go.

I love you, Sharon