Dear Diet,

I give up. This relationship isn’t working for me. You were far too controlling and eventually you sucked all the fun out of me. I don’t mean to be blunt; I’m just trying to be honest.

We used to have fun together. You started off with goodness and love towards me. It was enjoyable. We’d go out - out to the park, to the cinema, the shopping mall, food halls... wherever we wanted. And it was good. Really good. Our days were filled with desserts, savoury goods, cakes and fondant icing. Icing so pink you could taste the sugar and as thick as a door stop. We’d walk past the windows of the bakery and gaze at the buns, bread rolls and cheese twists. My mouth would salivate and we would enter the door to the smell of freshly baked bread and the sweet, sweet scent of cinnamon hanging in the air. Buying an iced bun, and a sugared doughnut for later we left the bakery, but that’s when your controlling nature would kick in. “Do you really need that?” “Is that really good for you?” Well, I’m through. I just want to be able to buy what I want without you dictating the good and bad to me.

Remember that visit to the pizza place? You guilted me into a salad. Who goes to a pizza place and has a salad? £13 that cost me and I got no satisfaction from it. That should’ve been the first sign - who stays in any relationship without satisfaction.

And the trip to Bruges? All the beer I ignored, the hot chocolates and crepes. You wouldn’t allow it. Was that the second sign? The controlling and fun sucking nature was too brutal. You’re cruel. The scenery was beautiful. The Christmas markets and sparkling lights, with a cold breeze in the air. I remember wrapping up really ear, with gloves, my long orange scarf and that fuzzy hat you used to like. I had to wrap up warm. This relationship was making me skinny: I looked sick.

So I need to call it. I give up. We need to end this.

... though I’m sure we’ll be back together again soon.