It's not you, it's me

I’m going through a breakup. And unfortunately, my exes (yes, exes plural) have kind of become stalkers.

Just last week, I got an e-mail. I’ve also gotten stuff in the mail. It’s bordering on harassment. When I ended the relationship, I meant it.

It’s funny. It turns out that if you’re a really good customer and then suddenly stop your patronage, eating establishments miss you.

No, really. I got an e-mail from Domino’s Pizza that actually said, “We miss you.”

Same thing with Zifty.com, a lovely delivery service that will bring your heart’s content from local restaurants right to your door. They sent me an e-mail begging for me to return to my weekly schedule.

These were both exes I really loved. We spent many a lonely Friday night together, comforting each other (or, OK comforting me) with cuddly pepperoni and compassionate Mexican food.

But like all codependent relationships, these had to end. Sure, it hurt my heart a little at first. But I know I’m better off without them.

So, Domino’s, Zifty and all the rest of you, I hate to take the breakup public, but since you’re not getting the message: We’re over. Done. Finished.

*cue Aretha Franklin’s “Respect” as I sassily walk away.