For the record, I'm already a handful of Pumpkin Spice Lattes (and more than a few pumpkin donuts) into the season. XX years from now when the PSL comes out in June and you're wondering "Why does this thing come out earlier every year? Who buys these things in summer?" The answer is me.
Dear Pumpkin-Flavored Seasonal Treats,
So you’re back. You just come waltzing into Starbucks like nothing has happened, like nothing has changed. Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who left for a year with no explanation, no warning. No note. And I’m just supposed to be okay with that?
Well, I’m not. A lot has changed in the last year. I’ve moved on. I tried changing up my diet and eating more lunchables and uncrustables, did you know that? Of course you didn’t. You know why? Because you never bothered to call and check in. I had a fling with peppermint schnapps in December, but that didn’t last as long as the hangover. I never really got over you.
Do you know what it was like for me after you disappeared? I was a wreck. I couldn’t get out of bed; there was nothing to look forward to. I started visiting the places we spent time together, on the off chance you might be there. But no matter where I went, the fact was that you were gone. Worst of all, it seems that I was the only one who noticed. Signs advertising your presence remained up. Commercials encouraging me to consume you in mass quantities flooded my television and haunted my dreams. You were everywhere and nowhere, all at the same time.
If I had realized how temporary your presence in my life would be, I would have done things differently. I would have cherished the time we spent together more. I would have taken more pictures. I would have told you I loved you each and every single day. If only I knew it was all going to end, I would have planned ahead. I would have stocked up. If only.
But like I said, things are different now. I’ve changed. I’m strong now. I’m not the same Deset Gled who needed you, yearned for you and cried when you weren’t around. I am an independent, self-sufficient EnWorld Commenter, who refuses to be tied down. Especially to something that can’t handle hanging around for more than a three-month period of time. So screw you, you commitment-phobic piece of crap.
You’ve got a lot of nerve coming back here. How dare you look me in the eye? Do you think I’m dumb? Do you think I don’t realize that since you’ve come back, you’ve flirted with every person you pass on the street, tempting them with your elusive charms and intoxicating scent? You suck. You really, really suck. I trusted you. I thought we had something special. And now you’ve gone and thrown it all away. Again. God, I’m stupid. I’m so stupid. I hate you. I really, really do.
Wait. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m being too hard on you. I don’t know. I’ve put so much into this relationship already. Maybe it’s better to just try again. A blank slate, so to speak. It’s still early in the season. We still have time; we can still make it work. What do you say? How about a drink? For old time’s sake? But please, whatever you do. Don’t ever leave me again.
I love you,
Deset Gled