An Open Letter to My Worst Habit
Dear Diet Coke,
It's been 7 days since I walked out on you. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about you every minute of every day since then. We have a history, you and I. A bond that no one else shared, just you and me. Diet Coke, I still reach for you in the mornings on my way to work. Without you I've been nodding off on my daily commute. Shhh, Diet Coke, that will be our little secret. Sometimes, when I am immersed in my thoughts at work, I extend my hand to grab you on my Logo Agogo coaster that sits on my desk, but you are not there, Diet Coke, you are not there.
I've fought with my inner voices telling me that you aren't that bad for me. I can take you back slowly and in more healthy portions. But no! No, Diet Coke. If I can not have all of you and maintain a healthy lifestyle, than I would rather not have you at all. Shh, don't cry Diet Coke. You are not the only one suffering from this. My neurological system is also suffering. It misses the daily stimulation you provided and, in rebellion, has started to shut down during crucial periods in the day as if to tell me, "I Loved Diet Coke too, and I didn't want us to leave! I hate you for breaking us up!"
But, Diet Coke, I need more time. I think another week and the pain and cravings will start subsiding. I will remember the good times. But bad boys can't make life partners. So I must move on to more stable liquids. My parents said water is doing well these days. I'll miss you.
Colleen Koenig