Here is the thing. I have to let you go. Don't get mad. It isn't you. It's me. Well, it really is you. You aren't good for me. And we need to spend some time apart. Just Lent. I may or not bring you back into my life on Easter.
Don't think I don't love you. I do. I love you too much. I just can't think of that right now. Really. My request is that you not bother me. Please. Don't even enter my mind. It is a headache. Literally.