Dear Apple Pie,
I love you. You are one of my favorite foods, and I know how to make you about as well as anyone else I've found. In fact, making you is one of my baking specialties.
However, you are bad for my thighs. You tease me, making me think I'll have just one little piece, but you know that once I taste you I won't be able to resist you until you are gone from my presence. And since I'm trying to lose weight--and I'm not supposed to have you at all, since I've been banded--having as much of you as I desire is the wrong thing to do.
It's fall, and I thought I could make you without eating all of you. But you seduced me, and I've had more of you than I should have. It's not fair, but I'm going to have to say goodbye to you. I can have you in public, with other people that I can share you with, but I can't be trusted alone with you.
I hope you understand.