Wendy’s my X, but I can’t stop think about her.

I saw you on my the way to work again and even though I know it is over between us, I still think of you.  Your red hair was twisted and bound the way I like the most.  I was afraid you would notice me, so I arranged my face into an air of frosty coolness and nonchalance, so you’d think I was doing fine without you in my life. I know I should not sip from the cup of my super-sized memories, but I can’t help myself sometimes.

Seeing you made me remember the way you used to let me enjoy you, sometimes slowly savoring every moment and other times quickly, if I was on my way somewhere and needed you in a hurry. You can be so hot ‘n juicy! When you are inside me, I feel numb to the rest of the world.

The memories of us are so fresh, they carbonate my mind, causing intense cravings that are hard not to satisfy.  I miss everything about you, from the little nuggets of wisdom you shared to the way you insisted on opening doors for me.  Some may call you old-fashioned, but I like to think of you as a classic.

I hope you understand why I had to end our love affair.  After 30 years together, I realized that being with you was unhealthy for me.  Let’s face it, we had a lot of problems.  Whether small, medium, or large it always ended the same way–me riddled with guilt, and you just sitting there staring at me emotionless.

Did my loyalty mean nothing to you?  I had the chance to be with others, but I always chose you.  It never even seemed like you felt bad about being with other people.  Lots of other people.  I guess that’s just who you are.

I want to stop thinking about you.  I need to stop myself, but no matter where I look there is some reminder–signs meant only for me around every corner, on the road, at the mall, and on my TV.  Cruel reminders of our delicious love affair tempting me back into your always open arms. You are a hard habit to break.

Well, Wendy’s, I wish you all the best.  Even though we can no longer be together, please know that there are days when I still think “Where’s the beef?”

Fondly,

Sal Ivary