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Dear Ice Cream

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Dear Ice Cream,

I’ll cut to the chase. We’ve had a rocky relationship, you and I. (Not a rocky road, this is too serious for that.) But it’s over. I’m breaking up with you.  You make me sick, literally, and I deserve better. I’ve gone back to you before, but I recognize an abusive relationship now, and you’re not good for me.

Photo credit: madlyinlovewithlife / Foter / CC BY-NC-ND

Stop looking at me like that, it won’t change anything.
Photo credit: madlyinlovewithlife / Foter / CC BY-NC-ND

This isn’t going to be easy, not at all. We had some good times, way back when. It started with heaping bowls full every night in childhood. (Weight Watchers, you’re welcome.) All shopping trips into the Big Town, Anchorage, involved a final stop at Baskin Robbins for a little Mint Chocolate Chip, or Daiquiri Ice, or Chocolate Fudge before we headed for home.

Things got a little rough between us in high school, when I worked for that ice cream shop. I got fired, because I couldn’t reach the bottom of the cartons to scoop unless I leaned into the carton so my feet came off the floor, and the other scooperistas (not a word but should be) got mad and said I was too slow. And because I kept forgetting not to stick long metal spoons in the blender when I was making shakes, and blender blades were apparently expensive. Then I cried so hard when I got fired that the manager immediately hired me back, which actually made me feel worse in the long run. Nobody wants to be a pity rehire.

Things got better later, when I was in college and then starting out as a young adult, with disposable income and time on my hands. We saw each other regularly,  and our relationship had a balance and a sweetness to it. We continued on together, you and I, and until several months ago, things have been ok.

But now, you make me sick. It’s painful, inconvenient, and you never check with me to see how I feel about what’s going on. I enjoy our time together, but then in just a short while I’m regretting it, and the pain and the digestive ….. disturbance starts all over. It doesn’t matter if you’re in your everyday, grocery store brand, or like last night, dressed up in your “best of Portland” Salt and Straw finery (and you were FINE……), it always ends the same.

So I’m going to be strong. We’re done. This relationship is over. And I’m not going to lie, I’ve been seeing someone on the side, and we’ve got something pretty special going, me and the tart frozen yogurt.  I think that will ease my grief. I just hope I’m strong enough not to give in to even the occasional hookup with you. I know now it wouldn’t end well.



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