While I'm sure your bread has changed since the last time we met, old friend, you are as beautiful and smoky as ever. I ate your pickles and onions because as an older, wiser woman, I have come to love you for all that you are. Even your questionable meat content and the fact that I feel kinda sweaty twenty minutes after our saucy rendezvous. Have you been working out? Your patty seems more slender than I recall, though your flavor remains true. I forgive you for leaving me- I was young and you simply wished for me to experience other sandwiches out in the world, whether they be chicken, deli, burger, or other. Thank you, my love, but please, don't leave me again. I'd rather you break my heart through medical consequences such as diabetes or arteriosclerosis than have it suffer through another prolonged absence.
Love always,
Mel S.
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