Please don't cry; this hurts me too.

Dear Tequila,

I never thought I'd have to do this. After our wonderful times together, I naturally assumed that our companionship would be a life-long affair. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. After last night, I need to break off a previously fruitful partnership.

Now, don't start. I know that I said I wanted to get tanked last night. It was a declared release from the monotony of my current existence. Now, I'm not sure exactly what I expected of last night. Probably that we would sit in a smoky, yet lightly crowded club where handsome men wearing jaunty hats and monocles would send us dry martinis, because they thought we were fabulous. Alas, that only happens...well that doesn't really happen. Regardless of that fact, I certainly did not expect to wake up feeling like a trash can, with the taste of Britney Spears' toilet in my mouth. As I pieced together the events of the evening, I came to the horrifying conclusion that we are as star-crossed lovers, who will only ruin each others' lives. You would have been the Heathcliff to my Catherine.

Now, I can normally handle the repercussions of a tequila night. I understand that certain events come to pass, and can accept the fact that I ended the evening hiccuping like a real-life Andy Capp. But there was one drunken event that I simply cannot forgive, and has caused deep turmoil in my other, more meaningful, relationship.

You made me sully the only true constant in my life. That's right, you made me mistakingly add maple syrup to my coffee, when we ended the evening at Clarke's. And had it not been for a diligent friend, who physically stopped me, I would have added butter as well. This atrocity has caused much consternation in my household, and a tear-filled morning of ardent apologies to my french press.

I know we've had a remarkable partnership, but I cannot let you get in the way of my civil union to java. Even in its tarnished state, the coffee still prevented me from waking up like a complete zombie. It really is always there for me; whereas you are a good-time fling, and make me smell like garbage. My marriage is too important to me, and I simply cannot live the lie any longer.

I understand that you were not the only offender, but that last craptacular margarita was really the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. While I may always love you, I don't have to like you, and I sincerely hope that both of us can now move on with our lives.

Cordially,
Cristina