Dear (Old) ShoesDear Shoes,
I am sorry to tell you this, but I now have to refer to you as Old Shoes. Yes, you read that correctly. Much like a man going through a mid-life crisis, I have replaced you with a newer and sportier model.
I know that our relationship has been rough. There was the time that I left you for New Pointy Shoes. But the red dye inside stained my feet a color appropriate for my adulterous ways, and I knew that only your pure white insides could surround my toes.
Then there was the recent fling with oh-so-cute Polka Dot Vans. But after time Vans began to smell, and I felt myself washing repeatedly to remove the scent of disloyalty before I came crawling back to you.
But this time it is over for good.
It's not entirely your fault. I am the one who scuffed you repeatedly when I failed to tread carefully, and I take full responsibility for using you so often that I wore out your back end beyond repair. We did try to make it work, but the new sole I paid for did not restore you to your pristine former self.
This is why I must move on. New Shoes can run with me when I need to catch a bus. New Shoes can go with me everywhere - to the office, on a hike, or shopping around town. New Shoes fit like a glove from the very first day, and our relationship hasn't yet caused me an ounce of pain. And, most importantly, New Shoes do not cause me to develop blisters that need medical attention like some of the cheap Young Shoes I have heard of.
Thus, Old Shoes, I leave you. We can continue as friends, but only if you understand that New Shoes are now my primary shoes, my everyday shoes, my I-love-these-shoes! shoes.
Thanks for all the good times,
P.S. Here's a picture of New Shoes. Do you blame me for leaving you?