Over the years I’ve loved you. Oh how I’ve loved you. Since the beginning of time, or at least since I was old enough to digest solid foods, sugar and sweets have been my favourite food group.
I have appreciated you in your many forms: Chocolate bars, Chocolate Buttons and Chocolate eggs. Chocolate buns, Chocolate Biscuits and Chocolate cakes. You’ve filled me up, cheered me up and I dare say on the odd occasion saved me from near starvation when I’ve refused to eat anything else.
So it pains me to do so and I’m sorry to say it old friend, but we have come to that stage in our relationship where you need me more than I need you. It breaks my heart because you’ve always been there for me in those tough times but I have to think what’s best for me.
You see my obsession with you was starting to get out of hand. Instead of you being a sweet treat, my need for you had turned into a daily necessity. It got to the point where I would be eating some form of chocolate and asking myself ‘why am I eating this?’ You’d become a habit. One that I needed to break.
And what perfect time to test my will power than Lent? I’m not at all religious but it seemed as good a time as any to admit that I had a problem (the first step) and make a fresh start. I only had to abstain from you for 40 days. I thought that I was going to suffer withdrawal symptoms similar to those of a crack addict going cold turkey. I thought it was going to be devastatingly hard. It wasn’t. I doubted my ability to do it but my determination was equal to the task. Sad though it is to have to admit this to you, it was a lot easier than I anticipated.
No crying, no craving, I’ve hardly missed you at all. Ok so I may have got a little jealous over Easter when everyone else was talking about how much they were enjoying you, and sure, I want to bitch slap anyone in possession of a Cadbury Crème Egg but when you go through tough break ups like this you can’t expect miracles straight away. But when it comes to the point in a partnership where one no longer needs the other, you have to accept your relationship is pretty much doomed.
As I write this letter you and I have been separated for 60 days. I’m not saying I’m going to deny myself of your company for the rest of time, but we really can’t carry on like we have been. From now on we shall only meet on special treat occasions. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder so this should make future encounters all the more sweet.
I know that this letter will come as a shock and may seem a little harsh but I really do think it’s for the best. I will look back on and remember all the times we have shared together with affection and will remain forever grateful for the happiness you gave. I hope that in the future you can think of me with equal fondness and find it within your ingredients to forgive me.
I don’t want you to take this personally. On the break-up scale of 1 to Adele I prey that your suffering will be minimal.
It may sound like an over used cliché but in this instance it’s the truth: It’s not you, it’s me.
My name is Jemm Frances and I was a chocoholic.
Note to self: Never again Google Image ‘Chocolate.’ It makes you want to stuff your Mac in your mouth.