Dear Onion

I know it’s been hard. I know I didn’t make it any easier for you.
You entered my life as a friend of my fathers and soon you grew so close you’d eat with us every night.

There wasn’t a day that went by without you, if I liked it or not. And right now, I’ll be honest: You stank.

But as my father insisted I spent my every day with you. When you went away for a short while it was nice. It gave other flavours a chance to unfold. We all appreciated that a lot. And when you came back I gave you another chance, because my family seemed to like you so much. Yes, after a few years I even interacted with you by choice, not force. I thought it might work.

But apparently you saw that differently all along. Didn’t you feel sorry at all, when I was crying in the kitchen? Feeling alone and dejected! It was your plan all along wasn’t it?

There’s no use in apologizing now. It’s too late.

Counting your last chances.

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