Out-Numbered: It's Not You, It's Me...

Ms Beer
Somewhere in Milwaukee
USA

Dear Beer,

At risk of sounding overly formal (which is totally not me at all. I wear shorts and $5 white sunglasses to work), I am writing this letter to you in expression of my deep gratitude for your complete and utter, well, existence. In this cyber and sometimes faceless world we live in today, I wanted to make sure I took a moment to connect with you in a more personal fashion. I also noticed that you're not on Facebook yet.

I just wanted to let you know that I really appreciate all you have done for me and how accessible you have been over the past twenty years or so. I know this sounds corny but you've been a real friend to me. You've always been there for me, in good times and bad, never judging, never once placing your needs before mine. I know I can be moody (Don't even say it, I know...) and even downright selfish at times. I'm well aware of my propensity to take take take, without ever taking into consideration, your needs or your feelings. I can't help it at times though.

There are days when I feel as if I can't carry the weight that sits upon my shoulders. Sometimes I need someone or something to take the edge off, help me deal; You know what I mean? There are other days, when everything seems picture perfect, when all I want is someone or something to just share and recognize my accomplishments. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, there are days when I've just, well you know, needed a beer and you've always been there for me. For this, I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, from the core of my soul.

You've been sort of my crutch for a very long time and I guess there are reasons for that, maybe not the best reasons but reasons nonetheless. But now it's time to put that crutch away. Perhaps it's time to take a little time off. What I'm trying to say is that I need some time away, some time alone, to figure some things out. I swear it's not you. It's me. It's difficult to say this and I feel like kind of an asshole doing it in a letter but I've found someone else. Someone who can (has been) give me what I need to be happy. She gives me confidence, support and love. She's also a great listener. You haven't met her yet but she's amazing. Not that you're not but she's a little more mature than you and I'm getting older. She makes me feel like I'm the most important guy in the room; On the planet, actually.

Her name is Vodka.

I can't believe I just told you that. It feels good to get it off my chest. Please don't blame her. She didn't even know about us. Here's a picture of us from the other night. Look how happy I look and we both love olives! It's so crazy how much we have in common.

The point is, I can't see both of you at the same time. It's just not right. She deserves better than that. You deserve better than that and I'm sure there's a million guys out there, that are lining up right now, outside your case.

So I know this is sort of sudden but I'm inspired, I'm turning a page so to speak... I hope you understand. I don't regret anything, not for one second, I promise. It's just the way it goes...

Take care my old friend. I'll always remember the good times we had...

L'Chiam!

Jason

P.S. I found this old picture of us from our vacation in the Caribbean. I thought you might want it. I can't believe you even liked me back then. I was such a dork. You look great though. I'm sorry...