Let me be frank: the thrill is gone from our relationship. Recently, I’ve lost the urge to harass you about the strawberry harvest. When I went to the market on Saturday, I didn’t even stop by your stand.
After the years we’ve been together, I think you deserve an explanation. The truth is that I’ve found someone else. Last weekend, when I walked by your stand without a second thought, it was because I knew I’d soon be seeing my new produce guy.
Though the new relationship is long distance, I’ve never been so fulfilled. The other strawberry guy is flexible. He loves it when I pick my own berries; if I’m not in the mood, however, he is happy to do the work and sell his wares pre-packaged.
Not only does my new squeeze provide options, but his fruit is cheaper, less bruised, and better looking. I know it sounds shallow, but nothing makes my knees buckle like a firm, juicy, sweet, perfectly-sized strawberry.
Though I’ve enjoyed our time together and have learned a lot from you, I need to see other produce guys–at least for the duration of strawberry season. Let’s talk when the raspberries come in and see if any of the old magic is still there. Until then, take care!