Dear dairy

2 am, stores closed, fridge empty. I'm cold but walking the streets outside alone with nothing to warm me but my Packers jersey, sweats, and a brand-spankin' new pair of crocs that I got at my office's white elephant Christmas party; anyway, there's only one thought on my mind and that thought is:

"I gotta get me some cheese".

I looked in my garage where my wife's car used to be when she came home from work; I'd always had dinner ready. There was no cheese there.

I looked in the shrubs on my driveway that we planted together after we got back from our honeymoon, no cheese, what was I expecting.

I ran to the gas station convenience store, they had cheese but it was rotten.

Man! I gotta get me some cheese.

Yesterday, everything was fine, I was happy, I had cheese.

Now I don't, and I don't really know what to do about that right now.

I'm wandering blindly around the community like a drunken bum with no job to go to in the morning.

Man, what I wouldn't give for just a single slice of sharp cheddar.

Now I know why she left me. This singular obsession turned me into a monster. I used to be successful, I can't believe how quickly everything turned to shit, my coworkers respected me and my wife was attractive.

I was doing fine, man.

Fuck, I just got clipped by a taxicab outta nowhere. Now I'm laying on the pavement with a broken shoulder, salivating over thoughts of the time we filled the bathtub with Velveeta together.

It was our last night, I think. She left me for a charcuterie artist, a guy with access to better cheese, my former roommate, major asshole.

cheese is all I have now.