To the one I loved the roast.

Dear RD,

I am writing this letter from the table at which we spent so much time together. It's hard to believe that six months have passed since I saw you last. Time goes by so quickly.

I'll never forget the first time we met. You were sitting there, all hot and steamy, with your golden skin and lovely loins. I knew right then that I had to have you.

As I look around the room, I'm reminded of all the great things we did together. The praise we attracted when we were as one.

Remember how people would say that we were a match made in heaven? Of course, we could be a little mushy sometimes, yet you always left me wanting more. You were so well put together, the epitome of perfection.

Even now, it's hard to suppress a smile when I think of how we were on those lazy Sunday afternoons in front of the open fire. Our future seemed full of possibility.

When I wander the city streets, I often feel like I catch your scent in the breeze. Then I look around and realise it's only a pale imitation of you. Try as they might; they'll never live up to what you once were.

I'm doing my best to forget you, but it's hard. We share so many mutual friends, and they often ask about you, especially if you'll be back. They comment on my social media posts, asking if we're still together. I wonder if their heart breaks too when I tell them we're not.

When you first left, I spent so much time wondering when you'd be back, worried that I'd made a mistake in letting you go.

I now know that the mistake was in keeping you around for so long. You see, I need someone who can stand on their own two drumsticks. As difficult as it was for us when I called things off, our relationship was becoming unsustainable. Of course, you always did have expensive taste, but, towards the end, I could hardly keep up.

The regular visitors we had to our home had to stop visiting, such was the cost of keeping up with your demanding ways. And you know I couldn't stand this. I need to be around people and part of the hustle and bustle. I need to be with someone who values other things in life, like a taste for the exotic, a healthy heart, and, well, someone who cares about financial stability.

Let's not forget your passive-aggressive side (dishes). Your mocking mashed potatoes and bitter Brussels sprouts were too much to handle towards the end.

Before I cut all ties, I want you to know that you'll always have a special place in my heart. I cherish the times we had, especially the early years. How you looked, your taste on my tongue, and how you made me feel will stay with me forever.

But it's time for me to move on. I must. This old photograph I've kept so close to my heart must be torn and tossed into the embers.

Please don't try to win me back by buttering me up with your sweet potatoes. It's too late for that. I've moved on to greener pastures. Or at least to greener salads.

Because there's someone new in my life now. They're Greek and authentic and lovely. Things are going well. It's fresh and exciting, and I feel confident for the first time in as long as I can remember.

People are starting to visit again, and that makes me so happy. The old place is getting so busy. The air is filled with music and joy, chatter and laughter.

I hope it doesn't hurt you too much to hear this, but this feels like the start of the most extraordinary relationship of my life.

Friends are excited for me too. They see the positive change in me and wish us well.

It's difficult to say - I'm not going to go all Johnny Depp on you - but this is the last you'll ever hear from me. I've made a promise to myself to never say your name again.

I'm sure you'll find love somewhere else. People are drawn to you and will seek you out wherever you are. That gives me comfort.

But know this, I won't be responding to you or mentions of you ever again.

Farewell, goodbye and take care,

- WL