My dearest White Bread,

I think you know what I’m going to say. You HAVE to know that this has been coming for a long, long time.  It’s time for us to go our own ways. I need to quit you.

It’s not that I don’t love you, because I do. I know that I shouldn’t but I do. I love you simply as you are. I also love you toasted or french toasted or as a grilled cheese.  I’m the one clapping like a two year old every time you are brought to the table in a basket.  Even though it’s not politically correct anymore – most people have matured and now prefer your grainer sibling. Not me. Never me.  If I can’t have you – I don’t want any.

It’s not you, it’s me. I know many people who do just fine with you in their lives (just look at those French people and their fantastic baguettes)  I just can’t keep sneaking around like this anymore. I deserve better. You make me want you over and over and I can’t let it go. You make my gut feel bad and my blood sugars spike and then crash. You are damaged, fake and  HAVE NO VALUE and yet – I want you.

This relationship is not healthy for me – it’s toxic and I’m going to have to just break it off. You are making me sick. I don’t even know how you keep sneaking back into my life. I never buy you, I don’t choose you but whenever I see you (or smell you or squeeze you) I can’t help myself.

My friends never liked you, they can see through your sneaky outer crust and can tell that you are not a ‘health food’.

So, if you see me walking past you in the market – just look the other way. Pretend we’ve never met.  Don’t try to tempt me with the softness of your bread or the beautiful white center that toasts up to a delightful treat. If you think you can just ‘show up’ at my table and expect to be welcomed – you have another thing coming.

Good bye sliced goodness. We are over.