It’s been a month since you disappeared, Qdoba. Well, almost a month–at a certain point, I guess I stopped counting the number of days. It hurt too much.
It hurt to keep telling myself that you would return, that it was just a temporary equipment problem, but that soon I’d be able to enjoy your delicious queso once again. It hurt to see your remodeled storefront, a testament to the care you once had for the Pitt community. You wanted to look good for us. The demolition of your entire front wall wasn’t going to stop us from being together.
I remember when the wall came down, and you said we needed to take a break. I never gave up. I held you in my arms and told you it was going to be okay, that we would get through this, we would rebuild. You told me you would never leave again. And you were right–we came back stronger.
But then you left again. This time, your building stood intact. There was no explanation. I would stare into your dark, empty interior, hoping a single light bulb would flicker and offer some sign of life.
You left us a note, but it only made things worse. “Thanks for a great 16 years.” That’s it? A half-hearted “thanks?” Almost 2 decades together, and all you could muster was a scribbled farewell on a whiteboard.
You’ll never understand how you broke me. You’ll never see the tears that I shed. You’ll never see shattered pieces of my heart that I had to try and put back together.
But I want you to know that, in spite of it all, I forgive you. I forgive you for gaining my trust and tossing it aside. I forgive you for putting up a shiny, new façade when you knew that you wouldn’t be around much longer. I forgive you for the nights I ate your food and had to endure a fiery diarrhea of cataclysmic proportions.
Yes, Qdoba, I forgive you for all that you did to hurt me. In fact, I’ve met someone new. They took your place when you vanished and helped me put my life back together.
They’re better than you. They’re more creative than you. They don’t take cash, because they know cash transactions are stressful. They ask what size portions I need. They remind me what it means to be faithful, to be loved. That’s all I ever asked of you, but I guess unlike your guac, loyalty was extra.