Dear Colon,

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone. This might come as a bit of a surprise to you – especially because we’ve been inseparable for the last 30 years. I cherish the times we had together but I don’t think we’re right for each other anymore.
We’re not compatible.  You’re bland and I crave more flavors in my life.  My friends jokingly call you, Mr. Mild.  I mean you like white rice, yogurt and Evian bottled water; I shouldn’t require Gas-x and Imodium as part of a healthy balanced diet.

Your favorite spice is plain, and your favorite meal is a sandwich.  Do you even know what my favorite spice or meal is? I once asked if wanted to order Indian take-out and you said "Naan and Basmati Rice".  My point is that I want to eat what I want to eat, when I want to eat it.  We’re holding each other back from enjoying life.

But you know what? We had some good times, or so I think. I often look back fondly at the afternoon we spent in the Glasgow train station bathroom or the flatulent filed Sundays spent in church or most dear to my heart, the bout of food poisoning from the Greek Chicken Salad at the Denver Airport.

Please, don't stress like last time. That means no IBS. And look - I won't even make an issue out of the social awkwardness you caused. So take care of yourself – and I hope some day we can be friends.

Sincerely,

Jim