The End of a Love Affair

Dear Coca-Cola,

You and I have been together a very long time. I think it’s been at least 20 years. Look at the photo I found of us together from 2001/2002. Do you see how happy we are?


At least, I thought we were. But now that I look back over our relationship, I can see just how one-sided this has been. You wanted me to love you so much and be with you all the time. And where did that get me? Hmm? I blew up like a balloon at the Macy’s Day Parade. My clothes stopped fitting. The trips to the dentist increased.

Our relationship has been on and off, more on than off. Still, I always came back to you. I should have known something was up when I used you to clean off the battery terminals in my car. I should have realize how unsafe you were for me. I started feeling sick after we’d been together. I felt lightheaded and out of it, and where were you? Gone.

Even after all of that, I wasn’t going to walk away, wasn’t going to leave you. However, your whoring ways of finding new partners have pushed me over the edge.

Coke Taller Sleeker


You’ve changed. “Sleeker and Taller,” eh? “The Look Everyone Wants”? What kind of sick and twisted shit is that? I know from personal experience that being in a relationship with you is the fastest way NOT to be sleeker. It’s seriously fucked up of you to make people feel bad about themselves, hitting their most vulnerable buttons, needling them about what they feel they aren’t so they come flocking to you, thinking you’ll make them feel better. Instead, you only make them feel worse. You make it so they will never be what you claim to be and what you hold in high esteem. You can take your “sleeker” and shove it.

So this is it, Coca-Cola. Sure, I may see you from time to time when I’m out on the town. But we will NEVER be what we once were.

Without love,