Dear Diet

April 25, 2014

July 2012

Dear Diet,

I don’t know how to put this other than in writing because telling you in person would surely result in a nasty argument, and you know how uncomfortable I am with confrontations.   I’m sorry you have to learn this way, but I’ve got to start looking out for my own feelings.  I just hope you are sitting down while you are reading this.  What I have to share with you isn’t easy.

I cheated on you.  There.  I said it.  It’s out in the open.  In writing.

In my opinion, you really shouldn’t be surprised.  Did you honestly think that a healthy relationship can thrive on so many rules and restrictions?  You refused me so much, and this made me crave what I shouldn’t.

His name was Twix.  I had seen him around at various gas station markets and sometimes with friends.  I didn’t think too much of him, but then one day I saw him in the break room at work.  I didn’t want to, but I was having a very stressful day, and he said he knew how to make me feel better.   Well, one thing led to another, and before I knew it, I had stripped off his wrapper and held his naked form in my hands.  With only a slight hesitation as I pushed a fleeting thought of regret to the back of my mind, I slid him into my mouth.  I began to slowly masticate, completely losing myself in the oral pleasure he provided, and you became the furthest thing from my mind.  He was so very sweet.   It felt so good having him inside of me, losing all inhibitions, and yes, I even swallowed.

At the time, it felt so right, but once it was over, I was wrecked with guilt and shame.  Turning to friends for advice and support, I was surprised to learn that they too occasionally embarked on orally salacious rendezvous with their guilty pleasures behind their diets’ back.  To them, it was nothing more than a harmless tryst.  At first, I judged them for their surprising lack of morals, but questioned what made me any better.

I considered stashing this moment in my crowded closet of skeletons, never to speak of it again and return to you with an unspoken promise of faithfulness, but then something occurred to me.  Being with you feels forced and requires too much work.  I want the feeling of comfort that I know others can provide.  I want to sit in a restaurant with you and not stare in disgust at what’s before me while jealously watching others enjoy their dinner companions.  And since I’m being completely honest, I have never been satisfied after being with you.

So after much consideration and soul-searching, I have decided that our time together must come to an end. I am leaving you.  Our relationship was a valiant effort, but we just don’t seem to be made for each other.

Thanks for everything,



October 2013

Dear Diet,

Hey.  How are you?  It’s been a while since we last saw each other.  I’ve seen you around, though.  You seem happy. That’s good.  You deserve it.

So are you seeing anyone exclusive lately?  If not, what are you doing with…

Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush.  I’m desperate, so I’m jumping to the purpose of my missive.

I want you back.

Yes.  I admit it.  I was stupid for letting you go, but not too long ago, I discovered that I got a really great part in Spamalot – Lancelot.  Since there’s not much grosser than seeing a 40-year-old gay man in tights, I need you.  I really, really need you.

I promise I won’t cheat on you.   I promise I will be happy.  It wasn’t you.  It was me.  I was foolish.  I was selfish.  Can you forgive me?

Please take me back.  I’ll do anything you say.  You want me to give up candy corn?  Done.  You want me to betray Little Caesar’s?  I will; no questions asked.  Just please come back to me.  I promise that you, me, and exercise will be very happy together (I’ve been seeing exercise for about a week now).

Will you go with me (check one)?  O Yes   O No


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