Dear Grocery Store,
I want to break up. It’s been well over 20 years now of dealing with you and the love is just gone.
As the time nears to see you, I cringe. Thoughts of meal planning haunt me and I wonder when it will end. My heart races with anxiety rather than passion, and that isn’t healthy for either of us.
I find myself aimlessly walking up and down your aisles, unsure of why I came and what my purpose is.
It’s not you. It’s me. I’ve changed.
Remember when I loved you so, I even pulled two carts just to spend more time with you? It was lovely. But all good things must come to an end. Now when I am with you, I find myself wanting to run.
You see, when I was a young mom, full of dreams of homemade breads and canning, menus planned for months at a time, and a cart that never held convenience food; we were made for each other. I needed you and you were there for me.
Now my passions have gone elsewhere. I have new goals and dreams and you simply are not a part of them. I need you. That will never change. But I don’t want you. You have so much to offer and deserve to be desired.
As my house full of teenagers feast daily, as though they are preparing for careers in competitive eating, they will have to make do with whatever I manage to order online and pick up.
No longer will I submit myself to a relationship that makes me feel like less of a woman simply because I don’t remember a damn thing about you unless it’s written down. Don’t put that on me.
I know you must wonder where else I would like to be. That is only natural. I can’t say for sure. Sometimes it’s Starbucks or Target; maybe a drink with friends. I’m not cheating on you. I can promise you that. I simply need other things in my life.
This hasn’t been easy to say to you. I hope you understand. Change is good. I’ll still see you once in a while, but it can no longer be on a regular basis. To be completely transparent with you, you should know I will be creating online shopping profiles. I have to put myself out there again.
Thank you for the beautiful memories, miles walked, and strengthened arms through the years.
Melissa (mother of 6 and a habitual grocery shopper)