I am Trapped in a Bad Marriage.

Us In Good Times

I am struggling.

You see, I am married to diet coke.

Vows have been made; commitments kept.

And still...I fantasize about being health conscious.

I can vividly picture myself, frolicking on the beach. Trim, toned, vegetarian.

At times, I have even gone so far as to imagine what it's like to be vegan.

I know, I know.

It's wrong.

Unnatural.

Disgraceful.

I know what would happen if I acted on these crazy impulses.

I'd get all ready. I'd look forward to my nutritional rendezvoux.

They say anticipation is a powerful aphrodisiac.

 When the time is right, would I really go thru with it?

In that moment, would I order from the Chili's "guilt free" menu?

And then what?

Wash it down with citrus water?

I could try. I want to try.

But then what?

I can't live like that.

I mean, really.

I could do it for a meal. Probably even a day. And I might even enjoy it.

But live like that?

It would never work.

I would feel ashamed.

Hungry.

I'd yearn for what I had.

I'd thirst for the ease and comfort of my former life.

Sure. Discipline and exactness and non-dairy milk seem enticing.

But I have made promises.

And I will keep my word.

I will fulfill my duties to this liquid that disgusts and enslaves.

But the fantasies...

Will they ever go away?