(Not this Chuck.)
Let me start off by saying how much our relationship has meant to me over the years. I know I've always been able to turn to you, which is no small feat. When others have left me hurt and hobbling, I've been able to rely on you. And you've been more than willing to change for me.
We've traveled the world together, Chuck. We went on our first trip to New York and ran around Central Park in the snow together. We explored Europe and Japan together; you came with me to the Eiffel Tower and to the Tokyo Tower within six months of each other. Even when I felt shy taking you to shows because we were still getting used to each other (and I, admittedly, worried about what other people would think), you were there.
So you can understand how difficult this is for me, Chuck.
I have to say goodbye to you, Chuck.
Even though I've relied on you for so long, it's really become clear lately that you aren't giving me the kind of support I need. At the end of the day, you're just not doing it for me anymore. My mother sighs when we're together and asks me when I'm going to grow up. My doctor, on me telling her how good I've been with my constant walks with you, frowned and suggested that I could do better.
And so I've found somebody new. Oh, Chuck, you knew I'd been looking, and you know I'm still looking. You knew how I'd been asking my friends to introduce me to someone who would support me, who wouldn't leave me tired and hurt at the end of the day.
I'm sorry, Chuck, I really am. But maybe someday, when I'm stronger, maybe I'll come back to you. I'm sure you'll find plenty of adorable hipster girls to hang out with in the meantime, though.
image from youknowyouloveme.org
Monday, January 14, 2008
(Not this Chuck.)