Dear Almost Empty Bottle of Michter's US*1 Unblended American Whiskey,
We need to talk. Listen, I cannot imagine what my life would have been like without you these past couple of months. The laughter, the tears, the sleeping through budget meetings... I will always cherish our time together, but it looks like things are coming to an end.
No, no, shush, please don't cry. It isn't you. God, it isn't you! It's me.
THIS ISN'T YOUR FAULT. You gave so much and asked for so little. Just a clean coffee cup to be poured into, maybe with an ice cube in it. You're the one who said we should take it slow, but I rushed right in. I couldn't help myself; consumed you heart and soul. You were just so perfect, what with your beautifully aromatic flavor, with notes of butter, almond and vanilla.
So rich, so smooth, it was like drinking a richly aged 83.4-proof angel wrapped in caramel wings!
Remember that night when I was supposed to get the 7:11 train home but then I had a glass of you? Then another. Then another. I called home and lied to my wife that I was stuck in a meeting and would be on the 10:40?
Then I drank you some more and ended up on the 11:10 instead? I lied for you, and I'd do it again. I don't care who knows! You mean that much to me, bottle of US*1 Unblended American Whiskey. I don't know why your parents, Mr. and Mrs. Michter, didn't blend you, but I am so happy they didn't. You are perfect!
But, alas, our love burned too fast, too bright. It was too much too soon, and now we're both left drained and empty inside. Mostly you. There's probably, like, half a shot of whiskey left in you at best.
I know this seems cruel, but it's over. One final sip, and we'll go our separate ways. Me to my wife and family, you to the glass/aluminum recycling bin in the cafeteria.
Please know that I will never forget you, Michter's US*1 Unblended American Whiskey. I love you!
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