After spending the better part of our lives together, refined sugar and I ended our relationship. It wasn’t a mutual decision, divorce rarely is. A sucker for sucrose, I was oblivious to how toxic we’d become. It was sweet while it lasted, however, I’m healthier now that we’re apart.
The demise began last year with a trial separation. Needing space to sample other options, I downloaded a sexy saccharin app. Before long, I was inundated with artificial offers. Equal, Splenda, and Sweet’N Low vied for my attention, one packet after another, but they were all just substitutes.
Before the split, my mornings started virtuously enough with a little honey, maple syrup, or brown sugar. I’d temper my midday famine pangs with a healthy Fibre One chocolate-dipped, chocolatey-chip granola bar. Insatiable late-night munchies, masticated in a dark pantry, led to regret and shame. Just take your wrappers and leave.
Post breakup, I’ve been mainlining monk fruit for that watermelon sugar high. Has it really come to this? Sugar alcohol’s the latest candy man to hit the streets. Two of my favorites are together at last, but ironically, I’m no longer into that scene. How bittersweet.
This new lifestyle is doing wonders for my revenge body. I’ve discovered the simplistic a-peel of apples and grapes. Saving dates for the weekends satisfies my penchant for salacious Goodies. This culinary rebirth is bringing out the best in me. All sappiness aside, I’m taking applications for a new unsweetened sugar daddy!
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