Dear: Vegetarianism,

We've had a good long run. Seven solid years. You've been with me through the good and the bad. You've helped me avoid heart disease, food-borne illness, and you've been an all-star in the battle against constipation. I can't thank you enough for everything.

But, I have to tell you something.

Veg, dear sweet love, I've been lying. To you, and to myself. This is really hard for me, so I'll just cut to the chase, rip off the latex-free bandaid.

I've been seeing Bacon.

It began one day, innocently, with some bits in a salad that I'd ordered. I didn't know that it was even in there until it was too late. But, even though it was an honest mistake that I couldn't have avoided - I felt completely guilty. I came home and cried into my pillow, vowing to stay away from the temptation forever more.

Soon after, I realized that my guilt came from more than my unknowing consumption. Eating those little bits brought me intense pleasure. It was a dirty temptation that I had a hard time resisting, but I promised myself that I'd never go all the way.

But now, the occasional tryst has grown into a full-fledged affair that I can no longer deny. I'm sorry that you had to find out this way.

I'll always love you.